


Fight The Flame

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Blindfolds, Crying, Dubious Consent, Gags, M/M, Mouth Kink, dubcon, lots of stuff here guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: Rick strikes a deal with Negan in an attempt to put a stop to the Saviors' collections from Alexandria--Negan can have him if his people can keep their food. Turns out that's got a lot more to it than what Rick expected. BDSM/Dub-con.Request from you-answer-to-me on tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings! This is a very intense work, not for the faint of heart, and contains a lot of elements that could be seen as triggering. If you're not into what's listed, don't read this fic. Thank you!
> 
> That said, for those of you who choose to keep reading, I sure hope you enjoy! <3 This fic was a huge learning experience for me, and the one who requested it has been so sweet and kind and patient with me during the 2 months it took me to get it going. Not sure how long this thing is going to be, and the updates on it are going to be decently irregular. At present, the plan is that I'm going to write for her a bit, take care of other fics and requests, and then come back for the next batch of ideas to add and start working on them. 
> 
> The goal is to make sure I'm not neglecting any one person, but it is what it is. Thank you guys so much for reading my works, and thanks again to you-answer-to-me for this lovely request!

It’s hot as hell this time of year, but like the demonic apparitions in supernatural lore, Negan’s presence sucks the warm air clean out of the room. He stands in Rick’s living room, leaning in that stupid way that’s supposed to make him look ridiculous but actually only makes him scarier. He looks like a red-scarfed, biker-jacket-clad slenderman, one arm hanging long and straight at his side and the other cradling his bat over his shoulder. His teeth gleam, white in the darkness of the living room. Rick has pulled the blinds because he doesn’t want anyone to see. He can’t bear to think of what everyone would do if they found out what he’s about to say.

Hell, he can still barely accept it, himself.

Negan doesn’t know, and Rick can tell he doesn’t know, but he’s still smirking at him like the twisted devil he is, his lips all curled up like the needles on a pitchfork, eyes dark and almost shapeless. Rick shudders uncomfortably under the sheer weight of his presence.

“Well, Rick?” Negan’s voice is thick as black honey, his smirk widening as he speaks. “Out with it, already. I don’t have all fucking day. What’d you need this small, but valuable piece of my goddamn time for?”

Rick narrows his eyes. This isn’t the first time something Negan’s said has gotten under his skin. Just about everything that comes out of this man’s mouth bothers Rick on some level. And to be honest, that’s a huge part of why he’s here. Why he’s decided to say what he’s about to say.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to give Alexandria a break?” Rick goes the straightforward route. It’s no secret that he doesn’t like any action Negan’s decided to take thus far, and even though he’s been obedient to Negan’s request for him to watch how he talks to him, he’s made it damn clear he’s not happy about what’s going on in the process.

“ _Really_?” Negan deadpans. “That’s what you came here to talk to me about?” He sighs, props Lucille up, and bears his weight on her amidst a lean in the opposite direction. “You know about how far this is gonna go, right?”

“Yeah,” Rick growls bitterly. His eyes don’t leave Negan’s, even if that cold, dark stare makes him want to retreat to the opposite side of the world from the guy. “I got a deal you won't turn down, though.”

Negan’s reaction is like a slow burn. The fuse lights in the form of a raised eyebrow, and draws closer to the gunpowder as his toothy smirk grows into an open-mouthed one. The explosion comes as laughter, as exaggerated as ever, with Negan bowing backward and the amusement falling from his lips in deep, creaking barks. When he catches his breath, he brings his gaze back to Rick.

“You have my fucking attention, Rick,” Negan announces.

Rick steels himself. He’s known for a while that he was going to make this offer eventually, but it still takes a lot of convincing. Even now, he’s working hard to remind himself that he’s doing this for everyone. For his kids, and for Daryl, and the rest of Alexandria. Hopefully in the future, it’ll benefit the other communities. Or maybe Rick’s getting ahead of himself. Either way, he has to try.

“Take me instead.”

His suggestion produces the desired effect. Negan’s jaw drops, and some of the dark haze falls from his appearance as he gawks comically at the man standing before him. Rick’s posture is rigid, however, waiting for an answer. For some sign that Negan’s going to take him seriously. Just about everything Rick has ever said to Negan has been serious, but Negan is a loose cannon, unpredictable and volatile, so there’s no telling what’s going to happen.

That said, Rick isn’t sure what to expect. He keeps himself firm and unwavering as he waits, and in the end, he’s glad he did. Soon enough, Negan’s back to smirking like the cocky bastard he is, a dark, low laughter falling from his lips.

“You being serious right now, Rick?” Negan questions as he picks Lucille back up and slings her over his shoulder, taking a few steps toward the only other man in the room. “Because I know I’ve made my interest in you pretty fucking clear, but an offer like that is a goddamn heavy one. So I’d advise you to not be shitting me right now.”

Rick hates that he hesitates--that for the briefest of moments, he’s wondering if it’s worth it. Because of course it is. Judith and Carl, Daryl, everyone else...they’d have a chance at survival. Negan would leave them alone. No more pickups, no more adults practically starving themselves so the kids will have enough to eat. No more wondering if they’ll even have enough food _for_ the kids. It’d all be over, and at the expense of one person.

Rick likes to think he’s got no problem being that person. But right now, under the harsh force of Negan’s stare and deep voice, he’s got his doubts. He knows he doesn’t have the right or the time for doubts, but they’re present, and they’re all-consuming, and he feels like he might pass out just thinking about what he’s going to become when he willingly wraps himself around Negan’s finger like this.

“I’m bein’ serious,” Rick finally answers. “I’m yours, but if and _only_ if you leave Alexandria out of your pickup schedule from now on. You have to give me your word, Negan.”

Negan’s tongue is oddly pink in the darkness of his presence as it juts out and wets his lips, twisting his grin upward more in the process. His mouth gleams in the shadows, teeth just barely peeking out from within.

Anticipation creeps up on Rick and surrounds him like the thorny vines of a rose bush. At this point, he’s well aware of what Negan’s going to say, but that doesn’t make him any less afraid of the response. He’s made his offer, and now he’s got to make good on it. And if anyone’s going to hold him to it, it’s going to be Negan.

Negan’s boots are heavy on the living room carpet. He takes one, two, three long strides toward Rick, and in an instant, those glimmering lips are on Rick’s own. Immediately, Rick is afraid. Negan kisses passionately and takes the lead with such fervor that the Alexandria leader doesn’t even realize he’s being directed backward toward a wall until he feels his back make contact with it.

Everything’s hazy. Negan’s mouth and tongue are fast and yet somehow graceful on Rick’s lips. The other man’s tongue swirls along Rick’s lower lip, and he knows it’s because Negan wants him to open his mouth. He doesn’t _want_ to kiss back, but if this is any indicator that Negan’s taking his deal, he knows he doesn’t have a choice.

And it makes him angry. He shudders, parts his lips, and kisses back, and he hates how well Negan responds to it. A low chuckle vibrates into the kiss, and Rick cringes. This is Negan. This is the man who killed two people Rick considered family. The man who’s been taking from Alexandria relentlessly ever since. And here Rick is, kissing him. He feels disgusted and ashamed, and almost instantly regrets not talking to someone about this first.

If Daryl were here, he would have tried to talk him out of it. He’d probably have gotten himself angry at Rick for even having suggested such a thing. He’d bark that they could ‘figure somethin’ else out’, shoot Rick a glare, and fuck off for a few days. Rick would hate himself, but he’d probably do it anyway. He cares for Daryl, but this isn’t because Rick wants to give himself to Negan. It’s because he feels he has no other choice. Negan likes Rick, and the only way Rick’s going to get him off everyone else’s back is to give him the one thing he likes more than all the material shit he’s been picking up from Alexandria.

Negan pulls back and exhales another laugh right into Rick’s face. When Rick opens his eyes, the taller man is just far enough away that he can make eye contact. Rick can feel the warmth of Negan’s arm propped up against the wall next to his head, and he can feel the larger man’s breath on his lips and nose. He wants nothing more than to sock him hard in the stomach and take back the deal, but he’s too far gone. He’s got to live with it now. It’s a desperate effort for Rick to remind himself that it’s worth it.

“You see what you’re offering up, Rick?” Negan questions. Rick almost gets the feeling that he’s being given one last chance to change his mind, but he doesn’t put much faith into that thought. “You do this and you’re mine, but you’re not just arm candy. No...I get you, I get the _whole fucking package._ You still ready to give yourself to me?”

Rick narrows his eyes. “You already know my answer to that, Negan. I’m yours. But you have to promise to leave Alexandria alone. _Promise_ me you’re done takin’ from them.”

Negan’s eyes are half-lidded, his eyebrows high up on his forehead. That smirk is heavy and lustful and Rick’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the sight. “Fine, Rick. You got yourself a fucking deal.”

And then his mouth is on Rick’s all over again. There’s a sense of relief in Negan’s acceptance of the offer. He knows Judith and Carl don’t have to starve anymore, and once they get caught up on runs, they’ll be able to feed everyone normally again. Save for Rick’s own freedom, his community is going to operate like it should. It’s going to be okay. Yeah, it’ll be fine. What’s the worst Negan could do?

Rick’s answer comes in the form of a hand on his crotch. He tenses immediately, inhales sharply into the kiss, and tries to retract himself back against the wall further. Fuck Negan for doing this. Fuck him for not just wanting Rick to work for him. Rick hates that the man seems to know what he’s doing--hates that his body responds to the hand touching him like it’s nothing. He feels himself growing hard against Negan’s palm, and that the room heats up even with Negan’s cold presence still there.

He hates that it feels _good_.

And just as soon as he’s starting to come to terms with what’s happening, Negan pulls away. His lips are swollen from the kiss, and his eyes are darker than usual. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, nods down to Rick’s groin, and then lets out a low, taunting laugh.

“Well,” Negan teases, “I see why you decided it’d be a good idea to give _yourself_ of all fucking things to me, Rick. You should see what you look like right now, all flustered and pitching that beautiful goddamn tent at me, and yet, you’re still giving me that stink-eye. You’ve got to be shitting me, Rick.”

Rick knows he’s glaring. His back is still up against the wall, his eyes narrowed fiercely in the other man’s direction. He hates Negan so much right now. Hates him for what he just did, and for agreeing to Rick’s deal, and he hates him for stopping. Fucking hates _himself_ for letting himself get to that point.

“Shut up,” Rick snarls. “You got your deal. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“Oh, it’s _more_ than enough,” Negan coos. He cocks his head to the left and sweeps back in on Rick. His thumb finds the smaller man’s chin, tips it up, and their eyes meet. “I’m gonna go now, baby. But here’s the deal:”

Rick watches as Negan nods down between them, towards what he knows is his still-present arousal pressing up hard against the crotch and thigh of his jeans.

“You don’t get to do anything about what you’ve got going on there, Rick. When I leave, you talk Rick Junior back down, and you keep your hands out of your fucking pants. You don’t touch yourself, and you don’t fuck anyone else unless I give you the go-ahead. You don’t get off whatsoever, by any way, shape, or form. And if you do, you can bet your pretty-as-shit ass that I will find out. You _don’t_ want to know what happens when I find out, Rick. Do I make myself clear?”

Again, Rick’s compelled to punch this guy. Just once. He wants to see Negan bleed. Hell, he’ll still be willing to go through with the deal. But he wants this man to hurt beforehand.

However, he knows it’s not going to happen. So he just clenches his teeth, nose flared up in fury, and seethes up at Negan through gritted teeth, “...Fine.”

Negan steals another chaste kiss, before finally backing off. Rick doesn’t remember him abandoning Lucille, but he does watch him pick her up from a spot leaning against the couch. Soon enough, the Sanctuary leader is smirking across the room at him again. “Good boy. I’ll be seeing you…”

As Negan’s heavy boots clunk their way across the porch and down the stairs, Rick slides down to the ground against the living room wall and cards his fingers roughly through his hair. Afterward, he makes one hell of a display of trying to remove the taste of Negan’s mouth and tongue from his lips.

He can hear Negan whistling in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

In a realm where everything makes sense, Rick would be glad Negan took his leave. If everything made sense, he’d be counting his blessings right now and enjoying the lack of exposure he has to the very jackass who has made the past month of his life hell in a handbasket. In this realm, Rick would be making the best of his time and enjoying the peace and quiet he’s earned for himself.

But this isn’t that realm. Nothing is as black and white as it should be. As much as Rick swears he despises Negan and hopes that he _never_ comes back, there’s absolutely nothing he can do to get rid of the nagging sensation that, _God_ , where in the hell is Negan?

It’s a mix of things, and Rick knows this, but that doesn’t make him any less confused...any less uncomfortable. Negan’s very existence lurks in the back of Rick’s mind, watching him, smirking that devilish smirk of his...reminding him just who he belongs to, now.

Rick should be angry. A part of him is. Hell, he’s downright disgusted by the idea of what the deal he made with Negan is going to produce. But at the same time, the anger _fuels_ him. Fuels something _inside_ him. Something Rick doesn’t understand, and something he’s afraid to think too much about.

But it’s also something he can’t get out of his mind. When he’s not making rounds and mapping out scavenging routes, he’s left to his own thoughts. Thoughts Negan has invaded completely. Even without that asshole here, Rick’s totally at his mercy.

It’s not bad at all with the kids around. But with Carl wanting more and more to go on runs and do things the adults are doing, Rick’s usually only left with Judith in his company. He plays with her, enjoys teaching her how to stack things. He worries a little about how quiet she is, but doesn’t blame her. In a world like this one, it’s probably for the better that she isn’t loud.

And when she and Carl are home, Rick finds his mind is almost totally free. He and Carl try a round of This Is War with a pack of old playing cards they found on their last scavenging run. It lasts almost an hour, and at the end, Carl wins. Rick has to reward him by cooking a box of macaroni and cheese without tuna in it this time. Rick loves tuna. Carl hates it.

He wonders how this whole thing with Negan is going to affect them. With him already in Rick’s presence often as it is, what is this new deal between them going to do for moments like this one? Will his visits become more frequent? Will he take Rick with him to the Sanctuary? Please, God, don’t let him take Rick back with him to the Sanctuary. Rick’s aware of the situation regarding the wives, and regardless of how okay he is giving himself up in exchange for the happiness and well-being of those he cares about, he doesn’t want to sign himself over to Negan forever.

And being away from his children, from Michonne and Aaron and Tara, from everyone at Alexandria, and even Maggie and Sasha at Hilltop if Negan keeps him for an extended amount of time...Rick isn’t sure how long he could handle that. Surely, Negan won’t do that to him. Not with how much work there is to be done here, and with how difficult some of his people have proven themselves to be around Negan.

At night, it’s the worst. When Rick’s by himself, with just his thoughts to occupy his time, it's almost as if Negan's there with him, taunting him with his dark stare and that smoky, modulated voice. If Rick closes his eyes, he can make out dusty hazel ones watching him, silently keeping him in line. Negan’s words are glued to the back of Rick’s mind, but in moments like this, they stand out like images in a pop-up book.

_“You don’t touch yourself, and you don’t fuck anyone else unless I give you the go-ahead.”_

At the time, that had seemed like an easy enough condition to uphold. After all, Rick has copious amounts of things to do with his time that are far more important than sexual release. He’s almost always busy helping his small community run Alexandria efficiently, preparing for pickups. He has yet to tell anyone else about the deal he made with Negan, so runs are still being planned with as much fervor as before. It isn’t like they can’t use the supplies anyway.

But unless Rick just decides to stop trying to sleep or shower altogether, he’s still going to be haunted by Negan and his words. Even all the way back at the Sanctuary, Negan invades Rick’s mind. Infuriates him. Makes him feel vulnerable and weak and spineless.

On the third day, Rick’s in the shower. It’s okay, right? It’ll just be a quick one. Just long enough to get the grime from all his hard work off his body and then he can get back to work looking at the map he’s been studying for scavenging routes. Surely his mind can’t wander too far in the course of five or ten minutes...right?

Wrong.

Even miles apart, Rick is at Negan’s mercy.

The most frightening part about it is that it’s like Negan’s _right there_ , standing in the shower with him. His presence lingers like a spirit, haunting Rick, sending chills rippling up and down his spine. It feels like Negan’s watching him from behind, a few feet away. He’s probably leaning, soulless eyes taking in every inch of Rick he can see. Rick pictures him licking his lips, and the slow, sweet oozing of that laugh from his mouth. He shivers, tries to blame it on fear and discomfort.

He’s only half right. He’s uncomfortable, but he isn’t afraid. In fact, whether Rick wants to or not, he wishes Negan was there. He glances down his own form, sees his own arousal, his body touch-starved and hungry and standing at proud attention, waiting for Rick to reach down and satisfy himself.

Rick needs it, even though he knows he can’t have it. He tries to will it away--turns the water as cold as he can tolerate. But nothing is going to make it stop. Not so long as Negan’s words and that cold cockiness possess Rick’s very life like they are right now. He tells himself he can’t--that it’s pointless to want, and the imaginary Negan behind him silently dares him to try. Rick growls ‘no’ aloud, and his mind pictures Negan telling him ‘yes’, with those big hands tracing the curve of his spine. He elicits pleading whispers for Negan to just leave him alone, and his mind rewards him with thoughts of Negan’s fingers wrapped around his cock.

He’s cold and hard and leaking and miserable, and he wants to scream, because he can’t do shit about it.

In the end, he forces himself to cleanse his body as quickly as he can and shivers his way out of the bathroom to get dressed.

Rick doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to be left to his thoughts and the ghost in the back of his mind terrorizing him. But even when he spreads his map of Virginia out onto his coffee table, his focus is wavering. His erection is still there, confined in his jeans. He feels light-headed, has to lean back and close his eyes.

Just one time. Just once, he needs to get rid of this tension. Thinking realistically, it seems a little difficult that Negan would be able to find out if Rick is touching himself in his own home, since even a guy like him likely wouldn’t have the heart to let one of his Saviors live in Rick’s house and spy on him. It very possibly could be an empty threat.

However, Negan’s got a reputation for holding true to his threats. Rick doesn’t know what he would do if he found out the terms of their deal had been violated, and he can’t risk it. Yeah, he’s suffering right now, but it’ll only be temporary in comparison to what Negan could do to someone here in Alexandria. Would he actually do that?

Why is Rick even questioning it? Of _course_ , he would. Negan killed Glenn and Abraham without even blinking--took Daryl away to the Sanctuary to do _God-knows-what_ to him. He’s evil. He’s a jerk. He’s an asshole. Just because he’s sweet on Rick doesn’t mean he’s going to go easy on him or anyone connected to him for breaking the rules. Rick loathes himself for thinking any differently.

He tries to relax. His hands rest in a natural position atop his thighs, but it doesn’t feel natural anymore. Nothing does. He still doesn’t feel alone. This time, the mental apparition of Negan stands behind the couch, directly behind Rick. Massages his shoulders. Asks him how he’s holding up with that taunting lilt in his voice. Rick doesn’t understand how, but the not-massage actually feels _good_. His mouth falls open, letting free a soft sigh.

“I wish you’d leave me alone,” he breathes aloud.

 _“I’m just making sure you’re being good for me,”_ Imaginary Negan’s voice echoes in Rick’s mind--feels like it’s reverberating across the entirety of the living room. Makes it insanely difficult for Rick to remind himself that what he’s hearing isn’t real.

“I don’t need you to babysit me.” Rick’s eyes are closed, but he still scowls.

 _“That’s not what it fucking looks like to me…”_ the apparition taunts. _“Just look at yourself--you’re a mess. Dick all hard and aching for me. Goddamn perfect, but I can feel you slipping. How long can you keep yourself hanging for, hmm?”_

“Shut up.” The insult comes out harshly, and when Rick opens his eyes and sits upright, Imaginary Negan disappears. Rick growls under his breath and forces himself to get back to work on his map study.

He convinces himself that closing his eyes was the mistake there. Negan haunts him less when he’s focused and fully-conscious. He puts all the energy he can muster into the map. Draws route after route after route. He tells himself he’s not going to try and sleep until he can barely stay awake. He doesn’t want his mind wandering before he passes out.

Rick shouldn’t be surprised that it doesn’t work that way. He should know he’d lie down in that bed, close his eyes, and immediately stop feeling alone all over again.

Negan isn’t in bed with him, but he might as well be. It’s dark, so Rick can’t see him, but if he allows himself to think hard enough about it (which he does unwillingly), he can almost feel the glow of those eyes watching him. It’s frustrating, because _can’t he just go away for one night?_

But of course he can’t, because Rick can’t get him or his words out of his mind.

Almost instantly, he’s stuck in the same predicament as he was all those hours ago. At the very least, Rick’s boxers aren’t as confining and uncomfortable as his jeans, but the mentality shifts along with the type of clothing. When Rick realizes that, yeah, the lack of tight clothes is nice, he also becomes aware that all he has to do is unbutton the front of his boxers and pull himself out into the open air. Curl his fingers around his erection, stroke himself right back to freedom.

All the while, he feels his imaginary Negan projecting its unrelenting stare right onto him. He doesn’t speak, but Rick can tell he’s silently daring him to break the rules. Somehow, it bothers him more than when Negan uses his words. Rick will never be able to explain it, but it’s there.

In an attempt to stifle his urges, Rick curls his fingers into fists around his comforter and tugs it down hard across his body, as tight as he can manage, mentally pleading for his body to just _go to sleep_ so that the rest of him can follow suit.

But apparently his attention-starved body will take whatever it can get. When he pulls the comforter tight against himself, he unintentionally creates a small amount of pressure and friction, rubbing down against an arousal he’s been ignoring for far too long. He feels pathetic for that--feels like he’s losing control of the situation faster than he should be. Three days in and he’s already this weak? What’s the rest of his life going to do for him?

It feels good, though. Probably far better than it would have if Rick hadn’t been living under the rule that he wasn’t allowed to touch himself. It makes his mind fuzzy and his fingers operate on instinct.

At the very least, his hand is atop the blanket as he curls it around himself. Gives himself one long, muted stroke through the comforter, and outright moans. God, he needs this. One quick release and then he’d be able to sleep. Maybe then, Negan would go away.

Rick still feels like he’s being watched, but his self-control is wavering fast. He pushes his palm down hard over his groin, ruts his hips upward, bites the fist of his free hand to silence yet another soft groan. In his lust-addled mind, he can picture Negan straddling him, fondling him through those blankets, whispering low, filthy things, like “ _You like that, huh?”_ and _“Want more?”_ and _“Fuck, you look so good right now…”_

The imaginary words are sexual pleasure on their own, bringing Rick ever-closer to a peak he so desperately needs. He’s panting through teeth clamped down on his left hand, hips rocking up into the overwhelming friction, about to lose it altogether.

And then Negan’s at the foot of the bed. Even in the darkness, he’s completely visible, glowing like the goddamn demon he is. His eyes look brighter, more threatening, and even though he’s smirking, Rick finds himself fearing for his life. His hand stills, and his body stops rocking, and he’s left there, meeting the eyes of a man Rick somehow knows is miles away, but still has him right where he wants him.

 _“Good boy,”_ Imaginary Negan coos, wetting his lips, before he turns and walks off.

Rick, frustrated, tears his blanket from his body and flings it off the bed.

\--- --- --- --- ---

Not all days are this bad, but the suffering comes and goes. Some nights, Rick’s able to keep it under control. He blasts a CD player in the shower, keeping himself occupied by _Point Of Know Return_ and _Carry On Wayward Son_. He can’t sing well, but doing so keeps his mind on the lyrics and off of Negan. Out of the shower, he writes and studies and plans. He and Aaron decide it’s time to embark on a run. Aaron goes on about how they don’t have much to speak for and Negan’s next pickup is in a couple of days.

That’s on the fifth day. Rick doesn’t know what to expect. Negan accepted his deal, after all. If pickups are going to stop, does that mean his visits are going to change, too?

On the sixth day, Rick decides that it’s probably better to keep Carl and Judith as much out of this mess as possible. Negan’s going to be doing a lot more showing up at Rick’s home, and the less he has to explain to his son or keep his daughter upstairs, the better. Not only does he want to keep what’s going on under wraps, but the less exposure his children get to Negan, the better.

So he makes the reluctant decision to move his children in with Michonne. Rick trusts Michonne with his children, with his life, with everything. He also knows Carl trusts her with all the same things. She’s the best possible choice, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Pawning his children off on someone else because of a situation he’s not currently able to explain doesn’t sit right with him, but he honestly doesn’t feel like he has a choice.

At the very least, Michonne is understanding about it. He tries to explain it to her without having to come clean or lie about the situation at all. It’s obvious that Negan’s usually always in Rick’s personal space, so when he tells her Negan’s been showing up at his home a lot more lately and that he’d just prefer his children not be involved, she accepts. She’s a little confused, asks if he’s alright, but when he reassures her he’s okay, she offers to help move Judith’s crib.

When Negan doesn’t show up on the eighth day, Rick isn’t sure what to say. Aaron grows nervous, spends a lot of time at Rick’s side, suggests that maybe they need to get on the road and make a quick run to bring back _something_ before Negan comes back and gets pissed.

Aaron’s Rick’s friend. A very good friend. Rick hadn’t trusted him at first, but now he knows he can trust the man with his life. Not unlike Daryl or Michonne or Maggie, Aaron is one of Rick’s best friends. He’s easily someone Rick feels more comfortable talking to than most. They go on runs together frequently. They’ve talked about everything, from Aaron’s relationship with Eric to the way Rick is handling Alexandria, to how he’s addressing the whole Negan situation. Aaron doesn’t always agree with Rick’s choices, but he respects him. And Rick respects him back for it.

And Aaron’s worried about Rick now. They load up a single truck for their scavenging run, and Rick drives in silence. He can feel Aaron’s eyes on him, and he turns to regard him a couple of times. Aaron apologizes, looks away, scrubs at his chin. He’s pensive, and Rick knows it’s because he’s trying to find a good way to ask what’s going on. Apparently, his stress hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Rick doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to tell everyone else about the deal he made. He can hear the lack of understanding already. While he’s certain that most would swallow their disagreement about the issue and be by his side anyway, he also knows that some of his group are more reckless than others. Carl, Rosita, Sasha…they wouldn’t be able to accept it. They’d want to go to war--they’d want to lash out at Negan and set Rick and the rest of Alexandria free.

And as much as Rick wants that, he also knows that they can’t just go barging in. There’s too much at stake. Negan said it himself--they’re grossly outnumbered. Right now, the only game they can play is the one Negan’s set up for them, and the revised version Rick’s offered his way.

They’re in the middle of hacking their way through tall grass leading up a hill to a run-down-looking farmhouse when Aaron finally speaks up.

“It’s strange, y’know?” He’s out of breath, having been swinging relentlessly at weeds on the overgrown hill for a hundred feet or so now. “Don’t you think Negan would have made sure _someone_ was there for a pickup? Even if he couldn’t show?”

Rick shrugs, pretends he doesn’t know what’s going on. “I dunno. Maybe somethin’ bad happened with one of the other groups. He had to address it. Maybe he’s just runnin’ late.”

Aaron frowns at him, and Rick can tell he doesn’t believe him. He’s not surprised. Aaron’s intuitive--otherwise, he wouldn’t have started out as a recruiter for Alexandria. Chances are, he can read Rick like a book. “If that’s the case, we’d better make this trip a quick one. One night, tops, so Negan doesn’t take it out on anyone else when he gets there and we’re nowhere to be found.”

Rick wants to add that he doesn’t think that’s going to happen, but he keeps his mouth shut. He preoccupies himself with the task of clearing a path up to the house. They’re nearly there, after all. Rick and Aaron are both winded. Conversation isn’t what they need right now.

But it’s bound to come at some point. Lucky for Rick, he and Aaron split off in the house once they’re sure it isn’t infested with walkers. Rick takes the upstairs and Aaron takes the downstairs. They rummage and sift through things in silence for nearly an hour, and then another of those hours is spent gathering all their spoils into bags and loading them into the truck. It’s not near enough, though. They’ve got a lot of catching up to do in order to feed Alexandria normally again.

Or, in Aaron’s eyes, in order to please Negan and his Saviors.

They pass by one another, exchanging awkward glances, as they pile canned goods and towels, clothes, and toilet paper into their truck. Aaron tries to stop Rick so they can talk, but Rick brushes it off, a la ‘my hands are full, hold on’.

Rick discovers with the longer they go that he doesn’t want to talk about it just as much as he wishes he had one person he could confide in about it. Aaron would be that guy. Honestly, he’d be the one who would understand. He knows how much Rick cares about his people, and he’d probably listen to hear rather than to retort. That’s exactly what Rick needs, but...what happens if he comes clean?

At the same time, he’s going to have to eventually. Before this run is over, Aaron’s going to get a chance to talk to Rick. They have to spend a handful of hours in a truck together, and then an entire night camping together, after all.

So Rick braces himself. As they stock up and make their way to the shed outside of the farmhouse to continue their search, he prepares for questions. But questions don’t come. Just concerned glances and looks that ooze frustration but seek out meaning more than they make any accusations.

The question doesn’t come until they’ve loaded up some of the wood, tools, and gas that they’ve found in the shed. Their truck isn’t completely full, but Aaron seems a little more satisfied now. So they flip the tailgate to the truck down, take a seat on the edge of it, and feed themselves a can each of their spoils. And Aaron finally comes out with it.

“Something’s wrong with you,” he says simply after swallowing a bite of green beans. “I mean, there’s probably a lot wrong--you’ve got more than your fair share on your plate. Frankly, I admire that you’re letting Negan push you around like this. But, Rick…people are starting to ask questions. Are you alright?”

Rick doesn’t have to hear the anxiety in Aaron’s voice to know he’s worried about him. He’s been getting the vibe the entire time they’ve been out on this run. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had chosen to tag along just because he wanted to talk to Rick about what’s going on. Rick doesn’t blame him. He’d like to think he’d do the same.

“I’m alright,” Rick sighs. “Guess this whole thing’s just startin’ to get to me a little, is all.”

“It’s getting to all of us, if it’s any comfort.” Aaron shrugs. “Alexandria’s been changing a lot, but now that Negan’s gotten his hands on us, it’s for the worst. That’s got to be hard on the guy who’s trying to run the show. Negan’s probably driving you ragged.”

 _‘That’s one way to describe it.’_ Rick thinks to himself as he recalls his desperate attempt to contain his urges a handful of nights ago. But Aaron’s onto something. He’s pushing, even if he’s also leaving an opening for Rick to divert the subject. He’s too nice for his own good.

“Yeah...he is.” Rick sets his can down next to him and drags his fingers through his hair. He’s still a little sweaty from the work he and Aaron just finished. It comes back glistening on his fingers, so he dries his hand on the thigh of his pants. “I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinkin’...about some way to get him to cut us a break. We’re gonna starve at this rate.”

Aaron can tell he’s coming clean. He puts his own can down, sets his focus on Rick’s face, eyes him with that concerned expression that makes Rick’s stomach clench uncomfortably. He feels guilty for avoiding Aaron and the subject like he had earlier. But in his defense, this is just as hard to talk about as he’d anticipated it was going to be. And if he’s having this much trouble coming clean to one trusted Alexandrian, he can only imagine how telling everyone else is going to go.

Despite that, he tries his best.

“I made a deal with him,” Rick admits. “Offered him somethin’ he can’t refuse, in exchange for him backin’ off.”

Aaron frowns deeply. Not unexpectedly, he can’t imagine what would be good enough to sate the intense, greedy thirst Negan possesses.

“I told him he could have me.” The words don’t escape Rick fully. They bubble up like bile and roll off his tongue, leaving a bad taste in his mouth that sinks heavy on his stomach when he tries to swallow them. He remembers Negan’s lips on his, the hand touching him, the torment that has been thinking about what he can and cannot do with himself from now on...and he wants to puke.

“Rick.” Aaron’s always had a gentle face, but when his frown morphs into a scowl, Rick cringes somewhat. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Rick shakes his head. “He took the deal.”

Aaron looks thoughtful. It’s Rick’s turn to frown at him as he watches the other man wring his hands together in contemplation. He imagines it’s a lot to take in. Hell, Rick himself is still trying to process that he actually belongs to someone now, let alone Negan.

“I have to ask.” Almost timidly, Aaron turns his gaze back up to Rick. “What...exactly does that mean? I think I know the answer, but if I’m right, that’s a whole lot to give up to someone.”

Rick doesn’t realize he’s clenching his teeth until the silence tells him it’s his turn to speak. He tries to relax, lets out a sigh. It doesn’t do much good. When he gets to thinking about Negan and what’s happened over the past week or so, he always gets worked up in some kind of way. Most times, it’s discomfort and anger. Other times, it’s something else entirely. Thankfully, this is not one of those times.

A hand on Rick’s shoulder pulls him out of his thoughts. The grip is reassuring, and when Rick looks back up at Aaron, he’s smiling serenely at him.

“Look, Rick. It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not.”

Rick shakes his head. He’s already come out with it for the most part, after all. And if he’s going to confide in anyone, Aaron’s a damn good choice to talk to about the whole thing.

“You’ve seen how he is around me. Always got an arm around me or lookin’ at me like he does. I just had to use that against him.” And Rick’s right. Ever since Negan’s first visit to Alexandria, he’s been on Rick like nobody’s business. If he doesn’t have a hand on him somewhere, he’s got his eyes on him. He looks at him like he’s hungry, licking his lips and baring his teeth, with that half-lidded stare scanning him up and down.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re using it against him to me,” Aaron responds honestly, but Rick doesn’t hear any cruelty or bitterness in his voice. He’s likely just thinking aloud. “You’re giving him something he wants. A very big something.”

“I know,” Rick responds, nodding in understanding. “But he’s agreed to back off on pickups. You guys...my kids...they won’t starve, and that’s all that matters.”

“No,” Aaron sighs, “it’s not all that matters. But I get it. I see why you did it, and I respect that. You’re making a decision I don’t think the rest of us could ever imagine making. It pisses me off, you letting him use you like that.”

And Rick believes him. He looks irritated, but in that calm, understanding, Aaron kind of way. Rick knows he’s going to respect his choice. However, a part of him wants to warn Aaron not to get involved. It’s not like he suspects Aaron is going to do anything too rash, but him knowing what’s going on is undoubtedly going to have him carefully watching the situation from afar.

In the long run, it’s probably not a terrible thing for Aaron to keep an eye on him. Maybe he can figure something out--something to get Rick out of the deal without screwing Alexandria over. Silently. While Rick and his body keep Negan occupied. What on earth that would be is beyond Rick, but Aaron’s smart. If anyone can figure it out, it’s him.

Still.

“You can’t tell anyone else,” Rick adds, because goddamn it, it’s important.

“Rick--” Aaron tries, but he’s cut off before he can get anywhere.

“No, Aaron. Keep this to yourself.” Rick doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, but he doesn’t know what the others might do if they found out. He can’t let this get all over Alexandria yet. “I want them to know one day, but right now, it could lead to somethin’ dangerous. Let’s see how it goes first.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to comply. “...They...We could help you, Rick.”

“I know.” Rick nods. “And I’m sure you will. But not yet. I don’t even know how this is gonna go. It’s too early to find out.”

Aaron frowns, and the look on his face tells Rick he’s going to do as he’s told. “You’re taking this all on yourself. You’ve got to learn that you don’t have to shoulder it all alone.”

“I know, Aaron.” Rick smiles--the gesture feels foreign, compared to the stress-wracked frown he’s been used to wearing for the past week or so. “I’ll take your help when we figure out what we’re gonna do with it. For now, I just need you to keep this between us.”

Rick watches Aaron sigh and bring a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck. “You know I’m going to do whatever you say. I just hope it’s the right call.”

If he’s being honest, Rick isn’t certain that this is the right choice. But it’s the best one he can see at present. And seeing as Negan already hasn’t shown back up, it’s a good way to buy them some time to figure out what the next step will be.

Of course, Negan isn’t going to disappear forever. Rick knows that. He just traded himself to the guy, after all. Undoubtedly, Negan will be back to do with what he earned as he pleases. Exactly when is beyond Rick. He figures he’s just going to have to brace himself until it happens.


	3. Chapter 3

When he and Aaron return from their run to Negan’s saviors on the walls of Alexandria, Rick’s heart spirals up into his throat.

He tells himself to relax--that chances are, Negan’s just back and his guards are watching for the two rogue Alexandrians that are missing. But as he enters and the only sneering faces he’s met with are the ones carrying assault rifles rather than baseball bats, he realizes he’s wrong. Negan’s nowhere to be seen. At least they don’t seem to be trying to load things up into vehicles. No...all they look like they’re doing is guarding the premises.

Why?

Rick motions for Aaron to stay put while he climbs the ladder and comes face-to-face with a Savior he recognizes from a few pickups. Guy goes by Gary or something. Rick doesn’t really care. He just wants to know what’s got him standing guard at Alexandria, rather than back at the Sanctuary.

The supposed Gary greets him with an upright posture and a grin so smug it looks like it was chalked on. “Well, hey. Look who finally decided to show back up.”

Rick’s not nearly as afraid of talking a certain way to the Saviors as he is Negan. Especially if Negan’s not around. He’s got no problem waltzing across that scaffolding and getting right into this guy’s face. And hell, with that attitude, he kind of feels like socking the man hard across the jaw.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a few steps toward said man and cocks his head. He doesn’t bother masking the confusion and irritation in his voice.

“Where’s Negan?”

Gary raises an eyebrow. “What? Since we’re here, he’s gotta be here, too?”

Rick loathes these guys. This one, he hasn’t seen much of, but he’s watched others take things right out of his people’s hands, or ridicule them just for the sake of doing so. He’s heard stories of the way they treat people at Hilltop, and it just isn’t right. Seeing how proud Gary appears to be about all of that, Rick default doesn’t like him either.

“Yeah, actually,” Rick sneers back. “He’s your leader. If he’s not here, I got every right to send you and your people packin’.”

Gary chuckles, and Rick finds himself comparing his laughter to Negan’s. His has a level of depth to it, but Negan’s is downright guttural. Rick doesn’t shudder listening to this guy try and be the boss like he does with Negan. It’s easier to confront him that way.

“Not to put you in your place here, but you’re wrong,” Gary states, one hand resting on the guardrail while he turns to face Rick fully. “We’re here on Negan’s orders, indefinitely.”

“What the hell for?” Rick doesn’t fight the way his voice drops to a furious growl.

“Because Negan said so,” Gary retorts, and much like Rick had wanted to earlier, this man decides to get into his face. Rick takes a step backward to avoid retaliating. “You want to talk about it? Wait until he shows up for the next collection. Until then, you’re gonna have to learn to deal.”

Rick’s got a gravelly ‘screw you’ waiting at the back of his throat, but just as he’s about to lash out with it, this guy’s words sink in.

_“Wait until he shows up for the next collection. Until then, you’re gonna have to learn to deal.”_

...Next collection?

Rick doesn’t have time to stand here and rationalize, but he does anyway. He ignores Gary’s self-indulgent smirk and focuses on the words in his mind, because there are a lot of things that could be happening here.

On the one side, Negan could be backing off of collections and just chose not to tell his men yet. Maybe having them guard the walls and, much to Rick’s chagrin, keep an eye on Alexandria, is his way of making up for not being able to do pickups anymore.

Or maybe Negan’s not going to take the deal. Maybe he’s been gone for longer than a week because he’d initially been alright with the agreement, but after a week of thinking about it, he’s changed his mind. Maybe bringing some of his Saviors here is his way of warning them to watch their backs.

Either way, it immediately stresses Rick out.

“So you’re just gonna stand guard on our walls until he tells you to back off?” Rick clarifies, though he knows he doesn’t look at all happy about it. He makes no effort to disguise this.

“That sounds about right,” Gary answers boastfully. His chest is puffed out like he’s trying to be the boss, and Rick feels strangely more insulted by that than he wants to be. “Thing is, your group’s small. While we’re technically supposed to be keeping an eye on your people--” He nods to Rosita, “--since some of them look like they might be willing to make a rash decision or two, we’re also covering your asses.” He shrugs, before he motions across the wall, raises his gun, and takes out a walker a couple hundred feet away. “Negan wants us to keep this place as clean as possible so that he doesn’t have to do any dirty work whenever he shows up.”

Rick narrows his eyes. “We can take care of ourselves.”

Gary just shrugs. “I’m not the one you need to be telling that to. Until he shows up, you just need to mind your own damn business. Be a good boy, will you?”

In Rick’s mind, he’s already lashed out at this jackass and planted a fist in his face. Accidentally knocked him off the edge and sent him plummeting to the ground. Waved him off with one of Negan’s classic middle fingers.

But in reality, he just bares his teeth, shakes his head, and behaves, because he knows if he doesn’t, Negan’s going to have something to say about it. As he’s about to descend the ladder, he meets eyes with a very apologetic-looking Aaron.

Guess he heard most of the conversation.

\--- --- --- --- ---

In the end, Rick doesn’t bring up to the Saviors the fact that he and Negan made a deal. He’s not certain if Negan told them anything yet, and if the guy’s got some sort of plan in mind that’s going to cut out pickups, Rick’s not about to interrupt that.

Despite that, he doesn’t stop thinking about it. Understandably, he can’t predict anything going on in Negan’s head. Not knowing is somehow more damaging to Rick than any other option, too. He thinks about it far too much. It interrupts his thoughts when he’s working, and when he’s over at Michonne’s spending time with his children. It makes him nervous, because if Negan really isn’t going to help him out here, _what is he going to do?_

When he looks at Judith--the youngest person here at Alexandria--his heart aches over the potential for a negative outcome. This little girl, a child who hasn’t gotten to experience anything in the vein of a normal life, would only get to suffer more. She doesn’t know what schools or parks or vacations are, and Rick has managed to make things work without that. But food? Clothing? Things she actually _needs_? What is he going to do if he can’t provide those for her?

He thinks back to the time all those years ago, back at Hershel’s farm, when he’d talked to Carl about the very same thing. All the times he and Lori had discussed Carl’s life from here on out. How worried Lori had been that their unborn child would only suffer in this new world. Rick had been so sure that such a thing wouldn’t happen, but at the time, he hadn’t planned on one man and his army of people showing up and taking everything away.

It’s been eleven days since Negan’s last visit. The Saviors are still here, a few of them patrolling the streets, and a few of them gathered around the walls. Rick gets having them around, now. Negan wasn’t planning on being here a week after his last visit. Having the Saviors here makes sure that no one in Rick’s group will think too much about it and do something rash. People are talking, but with the Saviors around, they’re still doing it in hushed voices and behind closed doors.

Rick’s been privy to a couple of the conversations. Between Aaron checking on Rick to make sure he’s alright and them discussing the situation a little, and moving on to Gabriel and Michonne and Tara questioning Rick about Negan, it’s everywhere. Why wouldn’t it be? All of a sudden, the guy who’d been taking half their shit decides to disappear. Having his soldiers here is one thing, but it’s going on two weeks since the last collection. Of course they’re going to ask questions.

And Rick’s in a tight position when it comes to that. It’s either tell them about the deal he made or come up with an excuse to pass the time until he can figure out a better way to be truthful with them than just spilling his guts outright.

Which is something he still doesn’t want to do. Not right now, at least.

At the very least, the nights of unresolved sexual tension have grown further apart. Some nights, it’s more unbearable than others, but for the most part, Rick’s many dilemmas are working to keep his mind occupied. Sometimes, he loses control and Imaginary Negan invades his thoughts, but Rick’s getting better at fighting him off.

It’s a never-ending battle between his morals, his urges, and the many situations he needs to address with Alexandria.

Today, he decides he needs to get out again. On the last run, Rick had allowed Tara and Rosita to go out, but he needs a break. He trusts Michonne and Tara to help keep everyone else in line, and seeing as he doesn’t get to see his children much anymore, he decides to take Carl along with him. Just one day of himself and his son going out and checking on the animal traps they’ve got rigged up in different places. They’ll return by evening, hopefully with plenty of food and maybe a few supplies they spot along the way.

Carl, eager to get out himself, agrees instantly to go along. Rick lets him drive, and he thinks about how teaching his son to drive in a world not infested with undead would have gone. He almost makes himself laugh with thoughts of nearly having a heart attack when Carl misses that stop sign they just passed, or when he goes speeding right into a stray walker. He contemplates suggesting his son use his turn signal, but then finds himself wondering if the blinkers even work on this car.

All the while, Carl’s cheering about how that one’s _head_ just flew off, like it’s perfectly normal. And hell, maybe it is. This is just the way the world works now. Kids don’t go to school, they don’t get their driver’s license, they don’t graduate and go to prom and get all worked up about how the biggest night of their high school life is going to go.

They just...exist. They learn to live in a world that’s equally as cruel in its own way as the world before it. Carl knows of video games, but he doesn’t know of getting a job and having to pay bills. He doesn’t have to worry about being screwed over by loan agencies. He doesn’t have to pay off his schooling or worry about how much it’s going to cost to buy a house.

In a way, those are blessings. Not the greatest ones, but Rick’ll take it.

“...Dad.” Carl’s voice is almost foggy, like Rick’s been so far back in his thoughts that he couldn’t hear it. He’s so disoriented by being pulled free from those thoughts that he has to shake his head to regain focus. Once he’s done so, he turns his attention to his son.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you.” Carl’s voice sounds concerned, and maybe a little bit miffed. Miffed in that teenage, ‘you’re not listening to me’ kind of way.

“Sorry.” Rick nods toward him. “I was just...thinkin’. What’d you need?”

Carl just shrugs his shoulders as he pulls over. “I don’t remember. I said a lot before I realized you weren’t paying attention.”

Rick, on instinct, wants to retort. Instead, he clears his throat and mutters an apology. He knows he’s been out of it lately, and even though he’s got a lot on his mind, it’s not really fair to his son.

Carl seems to take the last-minute apology in stride as he climbs out of the car. They’ve got a string of animal traps lined up in the woods not far from here, and Carl helped with them, so Rick trusts that he knows where his son is going. Carl doesn’t speak--just creates some distance between them and embarks out into the trees. Rick jogs to catch up, and briskly walks alongside him. Initially, he opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it at the last minute.

And Carl seems to like it that way. He drops a half-mile in at their first snare and leans in close to inspect it. Rick sees the disappointment on his son’s face when he realizes it’s empty.

“It’s alright,” Carl reassures before Rick can say anything. “We can’t expect them all to be full.”

“That’s the spirit,” Rick chuckles dryly.

The next snare is another quarter of a mile or so off. Now walking side-by-side, Carl seems to see fit to try this conversation thing with his father again.

“You’re out of it a lot,” the teenager observes aloud, stepping over twigs as he walks. “Really out of it. Like there, back in the car? What were you thinking about?”

Rick frowns. Carl’s his son. Of course he can trust the boy with whatever information he has to share, but at the same time, Rick’s not sure he would entirely understand. Carl’s got a lot of his father’s determination, and an edgy stubbornness he partly inherited from Lori and partly learned from Shane. It’s a good combination--makes him strong. But in this situation, Rick’s not sure he should utilize any of those traits. And if he tells his son about his deal with Negan, there’s no doubt Carl would question why he’d give himself up like that. Maybe he’d even go so far as to call him a coward.

And Rick knows it isn’t because Carl wants to hurt his feelings or thinks harshly of him. It’s because in the head of a teenage boy who had to become an adult way too soon, it doesn’t seem like the right path. There’s always something else Rick could’ve done. Always something better. And even if Carl doesn’t know what’s better, he’d still believe so.

Rick doesn’t want to picture what Carl would do to protect his people.

“Well,” Rick shrugs, “there’s a lot goin’ on. I’ve got a lot to think about. With Negan here every week, and now his Saviors are here all the time...don’t know what’s gonna happen next.”

At the very least, he isn’t lying. But not unexpectedly, Carl doesn’t buy the vague smudging of his story.

“It’s been more than a week since he last showed up,” Carl thinks aloud as he drops down and observes yet another empty snare. “Wouldn’t be so weird if he hadn’t sent his goons to guard us without showing up.”

“Yeah, well,” Rick sighs. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

From there, Carl stops dead in his tracks. He turns, faces his father, and the most incredulous look works its way onto his features. “...Did you just defend him?”

Of course Rick isn’t defending Negan. The Sanctuary leader can take away all pickups and even bring back some of the things he’s collected from them and Rick _still_ wouldn’t defend him. This may be the new world, and it may not be all sunshine and daisies, but no amount of backpedaling can ever bring back Glenn and Abraham.

Rick won’t forget that, no matter how intensely provocative Negan’s most recent words to him were. No matter how many times he contemplates touching himself to Negan’s image, or how dedicated he is to giving himself to that man, he will _never_ forget what Negan’s done.

“Are you serious?” Carl adds once he realizes his father’s gotten lost in thought again. “Dad, this is _Negan_. Nothing he’s done so far is okay. No reason he could have for any of this is gonna make sense to me, and it shouldn’t to you, either.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to defend him.” Rick shakes his head. “Never said his reasons are good--just that he probably has them.” Which is true. Rick isn’t going to go into explaining what those are, but he at least knows he’s not outright bullshitting his son. Carl doesn’t deserve to be lied to.

Carl seems to soften a little at these words. He starts toward their next trap. “Good. It’s just easy to worry, since he always goes straight for you when he shows up. I know you aren’t asking him to, but with how many followers he has--”

“--he’s persuasive.” Rick smiles. “I get it. But he can spend all the time he wants around me and I’m never gonna understand why he does the things he does.”

When Carl smiles again, Rick sees a little bit of Lori in him, and his heart swells with pride. If she’s up there, she would be so amazed by the young man Carl has grown up to be. And he only continues to get better. This world has obviously jaded him, but he still cares. Rick sees how much time he and Enid spend together, and he also sees how Carl somehow manages to balance his time with her and put forth an effort to keep Alexandria going.

These traps are one of those many efforts.

The third time is apparently the charm, because as Rick and Carl make their approach to the next ground snare, they discover a rabbit has been caught. They both grin to one another. Even though a rabbit isn’t much when it comes to the entire population of Alexandria, it’s still something. Scavenging is growing more difficult nowadays. Manmade supplies are either too perishable or being discovered by others before Rick and his people can get to them. There’s been work on gardening, and talk of raising livestock. But for now, one snared rabbit feels like a godsend.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Rick cheers in a hushed voice. “Let’s hope for this kind of luck again.”

Carl’s just about to agree. Rick actually sees him open his mouth, smile still plastered across his lips, when it disappears altogether and gives way to a deep frown. The choked snarl coming from behind Rick tells him why.

He ducks just in time for his son to lunge forward and embed a hunting knife into an incoming walker’s eye socket. Rick slides out of the way, and the now dead walker crumples to the ground.

This kind of situation is nothing new to either of them. No matter where their next trip takes them, they’re always going to have to be on the lookout for walkers. They’re always going to have to take them out quickly and quietly, and be prepared for a herd, because there’s no telling when one will pop up.

So they both know it’s time to speed up their collection process.

Rick knows something’s wrong when he finds himself killing off more and more infected while Carl deals with the snares. They come in packs of four or five, and father and son can only move so quickly to collect their spoils. The packs are getting larger, and that means they’re inevitably going to be battling a herd.

“Let’s go back,” Rick suggests as he drops yet another walker, while Carl resets his snare. “We’re gonna be in trouble if we take too much longer.”

Carl stands up and dusts himself off. “We’ve only got a few more snares left, though. Three rabbits won’t go far back home.”

“I know, son.” Rick nods. “And I think it’s a great idea that we try to get as much as possible, but we’re about to be surrounded. We can’t feed anyone if we’re dead.”

Carl’s stubborn. The look on his face already tells Rick he’s not going to comply. And in his defense, they’re finding more and more game the more snares they check. Their luck is starting to turn up. But at the same time, so are the walkers. How they hadn’t happened upon the captured animals before Carl and Rick had is beyond him, but they can’t stay here.

Despite that, Carl turns on his heel and starts down the path that Rick knows leads to the next snare.

“ _Carl,_ ” Rick growls. He’s trying not to get irritated, but this could mean their lives. “It’s not safe. We _have_ to go back.”

“Stop saying that,” Carl whispers back from a few yards ahead, just barely audible over the crunch of leaves beneath his shoes. “I have to check these traps and reset them, or we’re just going to find half-eaten food when we come back. We _need_ these snares, Dad.”

“I know that, but--” A crack from above Carl’s head silences them both.

Rick doesn’t think--he just acts. He doesn’t have time to decide why a walker was hanging from a noose in a tree, but its rotted body has just decided to break free from the rope suspending it into the air, and it lands directly atop Carl. Somehow, its head is still attached, though barely. It looks as if the rotting skin just peeled off around its neck and face and let it slip free from the noose.

He snatches his own knife and puts the walker down, before shoving it with his foot off of Carl. He offers his hand, which his son takes, and yanks him to his feet. “We have to go. _Now_.”

This time, Carl nods, and they start off the way they came. They get a dozen or so yards up, before Carl stops short again.

“Wait! The rabbits!”

Rick wheels around, but before he can say anything (like how the walkers probably _have_ the rabbits by now), his son is already sprinting back over. The herd is closing in almost at full force by now, and Carl’s putting himself right in the middle of it. He takes out walkers one by one, seeking out the animals he’d dropped somewhere during his scuffle with the one that had fallen out of the tree.

And he damn near gets himself grabbed. Rick is following behind him as closely as he can fathom, his heart just about to beat out of his chest. He’s about to lose his son--he can picture it. Just like Lori, and just like Hershel--just like everyone else. One bite, and it’s over. And all because Carl wanted to be able to feed his family.

His heart’s in the right place, but he’s not going to be able to do anything if he’s dead.

Rick catches his son’s shoulder and yanks him back just in time to avoid a bite. The walker, a tall, skinny one, doubles over and collapses to the ground, hissing and snarling as it does so. Rick just shoots his son a sharp glare and tugs him back the other way.

They narrowly miss their window out of the fray. Yeah, they’re coming up empty-handed, but they actually manage to get back to the car alive, and as Rick hops into the driver’s seat and Carl throws himself into the passenger’s seat, he feels relieved. He ignores the tension emanating from his son as he peels the truck out and tries to beat the herd to another route.

And the tension is there. Carl’s clearly angry, and he makes no effort to hide it. He’s got his arms crossed, eye narrowed out the windshield, and Rick can see in every glance he casts his son’s way that he’s gritting his teeth.

He gets it. Really, he does. Rabbit meat sure would have tasted good. Judith is old enough now that she could probably eat some if they cooked it right. It’d surely beat the meager supply of leftover non-perishables they have available right now. Rick’s not exactly pleased they had to leave it behind, so he understands why Carl would be frustrated.

He decides not to talk about it immediately, though. He gets them a good fifteen miles or so away, where he knows the herd won’t be catching up to them any time soon, and pulls over. But before he can speak, Carl wrenches the door open and hops out, storming off into the ditch and toward the dense forest in that direction.

Rick sighs heavily, cards his fingers through his hair, and embarks after his son. “Carl.”

Carl ignores him.

“C’mon, Carl.” Rick’s getting frustrated.

“Shut up,” Carl replies in a curt whisper. “I’m hunting, seeing as we don’t have any food.”

Rick _really_ wishes they had Daryl right about now. Both he and Carl have learned some basic tracking techniques, but Daryl is the only one who truly knows what he’s doing when it comes to that. Carl is doing all the right things--looking in all the right places--but his footsteps are loud and his demeanor far too aggressive to be able to focus on killing much. At least that much, Rick knows.

“ _Jesus_ , Carl,” Rick groans. “Are you really gonna do this right now?”

“Yes, I am,” Carl snaps back. “Now, be quiet.”

“ _Listen to me,_ ” Rick growls. He reaches out for his son’s arm. “Like it or not, I’m still your father--”

“I said, shut up!” Carl wheels around, his gaze fierce and livid. The bandage over his right eye somehow makes him look more angry, and Rick actually backs off half a step. But at the same time, Rick senses more frustration from him than actual anger. “Because of _you_ , we lost all the animals we caught! If I could’ve just gone back to them…”

“They were long gone, Carl,” Rick tries, raising both hands. The tension still hangs heavy in the air, and it lingers in his voice, making him sound raspy and irritable. “I made you come back because if I didn’t, you’d have died. You’re my _son_ \--I’m not about to risk you for some goddamned rabbits.”

Carl scowls, but Rick can tell he understands. Even if he’s still angry, and even if he still wishes his father would shut up, he knows where he’s coming from. “I just wanted to bring back something that was _ours_. We could’ve cooked it tonight, ate it before Negan showed up. It would’ve tasted so _good_.”

Rick’s shoulders slump, and for the tiniest of moments, he finds himself battling with the urge to tell his son that, actually, they might not have to worry about giving to Negan anymore. It would require a confession, but it would have maybe made this entire bad situation feel a little better to a teenager who just desperately wanted to make things easier for one day.

“I know, son.” Rick bites his lip and moves in closer. He places a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “We’ll try again soon, okay? Check the snares again tomorrow, after the herd has passed.”

“What if Negan’s back by then?”

“Then we’ll try again after he leaves.” Reassurance isn’t something Rick is incredibly talented at. As of late, his expertise has been accepting the reality of things and learning to work within them. Hence, his deal with Negan, and his decision not to tell anyone, and him choosing to behave for the Saviors watching Alexandria’s every move. But for Carl, he figures he can make an exception.

“You and me?” Carl tries, and for a second, he looks like the seven-year-old boy Rick had known before the world ended.

He can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, just you and me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Rick isn’t sure how he expected to feel upon Negan’s eventual return. Yeah, he knew there would be nervousness, and of course, he’d be angry. Negan would inevitably make him uncomfortable, or say something that induces enough fury to make him want to blow a gasket. The list goes on and on.

But when Negan does finally return, on the twelfth day, Rick is overcome by a flurry of different feelings. It doesn’t occur to him until he sees Rosita yank the gate open and Negan comes sauntering in with that big, cocky grin on his lips and Lucille resting on his shoulder that he’s actually been looking _forward_ to this bastard’s return.

Immediately, Rick knows it’s not because he’s actually thrilled by Negan’s company. It’s because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. He’s been wanting to ask Negan about what Gary said about pickups, and he’s been curious to know just how this deal between himself and Negan is going to go. He wants to find out how often Negan’s going to start showing up, and how long his cronies are going to play Security Guard for Alexandria.

But there _is_ an undeniable, unexplainable feeling in the very core of Rick’s stomach. A fluttering, like he’s almost excited to see what happens next. While Rick’s half of the trade isn’t exactly at the top of his list of things he wants to do, there’s just so much opportunity in the conditions he created when making said deal. He almost feels as if it’s too good to be true.

So when Negan struts his way over and moves to stand right in front of Rick, he finds it’s less difficult to look up into those taunting eyes. In fact, he’s kind of looking forward to it. He almost smirks a little, himself.

And apparently, Negan can see the urge to do so, because he quickly speaks on it.

“Look the _fuck_ at you, Mister Confidence,” he teases in that slow, guttural voice of his, drawing out every syllable. Rick watches his tongue poke out between his teeth and lick at the corner of his lips as he swoops in closer, curling an arm around Rick’s shoulders. “Is this the part where I get to ask if there’s a gun in your pocket? In which case, you’d better just be happy to see me, because you know how I feel about you guys and guns.”

“You really want an answer to that?” Rick asks him simply. He doesn’t move from Negan’s pseudo-embrace, no matter how much it all makes him think about the terms of their agreement and what those terms did to Rick’s body off and on for nearly the past two weeks. He feels Negan’s fingers playing with the collar of his button-up, and tries not to squirm.

Rick doesn’t _want_ to feel this way. He has so many important questions he needs answers to, and when he can’t focus on them because Negan’s busy subtly reminding him what’s going on between them, it only makes him even more uncomfortable. He’s torn because he’s half disgusted with Negan and everything he stands for, and half just wishing he’d get what he’s implying over with.

But he seriously has better things to do than think about that right now, so he squares his shoulders, nudges Negan with an elbow, and turns his gaze to look up at him. And Negan looks right back down at him, all placid and self-satisfied. Nevermind their close proximity. Actually, Negan’s probably digging that proximity.

“I need to talk to you,” Rick insists simply.

And of _course,_ Negan teases him about that too. “That eager to get behind closed fucking doors, are you?” Rick bites his lip hard when Negan brushes a stray curl off his forehead. He’s not crazy about this treatment, and especially not in public. With Negan back, the entirety of Alexandria is likely watching, and apparently, Negan has no clue that Rick’s decided to keep their agreement under wraps for the time being. “All in due time, Rick…”

At first, Rick thinks that the long pause following Negan’s words is some sort of suspense-building thing for him, but when he looks back up and sees Negan’s hazel eyes narrowed off somewhere ahead of him, he realizes that something’s caught the larger man’s attention.

Some _one_.

Aaron.

Rick sees the problem almost instantly. Negan’s giving Aaron the stink eye because Aaron’s giving it to him right back. Aaron’s right around Rick’s size--maybe just a bit smaller in stature. But when the often friendly man suddenly gains a fierceness in his expression and demeanor, he looks several times bigger. He’s looking at Negan as if the man has Rick’s severed head in his hand and is holding it up for everyone to see.

In his stare is pure hatred. And Rick knows it’s because he _knows_. Rick can actually _feel_ it in his glare. The ‘ _how dare you?_ ’ repeating in those ferocious eyes.

And Rick can’t put a stop to it, because at this point, Negan’s already seen it. He pushes away from Rick and swarms in toward Aaron like a hungry predator. His eyes are alight with a mixture of curiosity and genuine shock. He could eat Aaron alive, and there would be nothing anyone could do about it.

God, why’d Rick have to tell Aaron what was going on?

“Okay, buddy,” Negan lilts, towering over Aaron like a dark spirit even though he’s not too much taller, “you’ve got my goddamn attention. Want to tell me what the _fuck_ you’re looking at me like that for?”

Aaron doesn’t say a word, but his icy glare doesn’t leave Negan, either. Rick can tell he’s afraid behind that fierce stare, and frankly, so is Rick himself. He has no idea what Negan’s going to do.

Regardless, Negan continues. “I mean, aside from the usual general bullshittery you people have spouted off at me for the past way too fucking long. Blah blah, _you killed my people_ , blah blah, _you’re taking too much shit_. Because I’m gonna be honest, kiddo--that stuff’s getting old real fast.”

Aaron’s about to open his mouth to speak, but when he finally makes eye contact with Rick and sees the look in his eyes pleading for him to back off, Rick breathes a sigh of relief. Aaron shuts right back up and draws his gaze down to the ground.

And for a moment, Rick thinks he and Aaron are in the clear. For one much-needed moment.

Before it all goes back to hell.

Hell comes in the form of Negan craning his head toward Rick. Still looming in front of Aaron, staring at Rick, Negan looks like a storybook monster with his prey all laid out right before his eyes. Rick feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh, _I_ get it,” Negan realizes out loud. He looks comically enlightened for the briefest of seconds, before his trademark smile decides to come right the fuck back. Rick swallows down nerve-induced reflux. “You two...are... _were, now_...a _thing_.”

Rick’s blood runs cold, because even though Aaron doesn’t see it yet, he’s in big trouble. The guy’s intuitive, so he’ll pick up on it soon enough, but Rick’s learned knowledge of the type of guy Negan can be, and how possessive he seems to be over Rick’s body now that it belongs to him...it tells him that Negan’s not about to respond well. And that frightens Rick more than any threat on his own life could. The last thing he wants is for more people he cares about to die because of Negan.

“Are you serious?” Aaron cocks an eyebrow.

“Your mouth, _boyfriend_ ,” Negan snaps quickly, bringing his attention fully back to Aaron. “Fucking shut it.” But soon enough, he’s back to looking at Rick. Smirking that smirk--the same one he’d threatened Rick and his people with back outside of the RV. The same one that had brought Rick to tears. “I don’t suppose you two have been going back on your end of the deal… have you?”

“Leave Aaron out of this,” Rick argues firmly, though he does catch himself backtracking a bit to make sure not to get them into too much trouble. “...Please.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Negan answers. Rick watches him pivot on one foot, angle himself sideways, and bare his teeth. “And what if I asked one of my men? Gary over there’s been watching you all like a fucking hawk. I like how attentive to detail he is.”

“Then he’ll know there’s nothing going on,” Aaron growls. Even as he finishes with a look of frightened defiance on his face, he and Rick both know he’s gone too far. They watch as Negan pauses and takes in the sight of the man in front of him, before he switches Lucille to his left hand and then, in a display of almost hulkish strength, picks Aaron up by his throat.

“Who-hoa!” Negan cackles, grinning up at Aaron as both his hands find their way around Negan’s wrist. “I admire the smart mouth, but if I fucking remember right, I asked you to keep it _shut._ ”

“That’s _enough._ ” Rick doesn’t remember speaking, nor swooping in on Negan and shoving him hard with his shoulder, but before he knows it, Negan’s stumbling sideways almost comically and Aaron’s on the ground nursing his throat.

Negan eventually catches his balance, and as he does, it’s with a laughter so deep and merciless that it rattles right down into Rick’s bones. He doesn’t regret his decision to intervene, but he’s sure afraid to know what’s coming next. Negan’s downright unpredictable. There’s no telling what he’s going to decide to do in any situation, let alone this one.

“Well, excuse the shit out me, Rick…” Negan taunts. “But you did _not_ just fucking push me.”

“You were gonna kill my friend,” Rick blurts out, more trying to explain than actually retorting.

“He’s entitled to those,” Aaron coughs from nearby.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Negan actually looks frustrated. He waves his free hand into the air. “David! Gary! Do something about this fucking guy. Lock him up or some shit.” When he nods to Aaron, the two Saviors, not far off, move in on him. “Don’t kill him, though--he’s Rick’s _friend._ ”

Rick watches in horror as Aaron is confronted. He doesn’t deserve this, and Rick knows it. It kills him to just stand there while Gary and David make their way over and swarm in on him like a couple of hungry vultures. Aaron, both frightened and angry, glares up at them through fearful eyes. He shoots an almost apologetic glance Rick’s way, but before he can do anything else, Gary grabs him by the armpit and hefts him up to his feet with a loud, purposeful grunt. In the distance, Rick can see Eric watching with horror from his porch, restrained from approaching by one of Negan's many Saviors.

Rick’s attention shifts to Negan, who is watching the display with a deep frown on his face. He must really not be used to defiance, because Aaron has struck a chord with him in just the few choice words he decided to use. Rick recalls the fact that he himself had threatened to kill this guy, and said guy still chose to spare him. But he also knows that Negan _likes_ him, so he supposes there’s a difference.

It doesn’t make it any more fair, though. Especially when Aaron instinctively tries to yank his arm back--a sort of ‘I can walk by myself’ gesture--and ends up with a fist slamming into the side of his face. The hit lands hard enough that he stumbles sideways and drops to the ground again.

“That’s enough--” Rick starts toward his friend, but a hand on his right upper arm stops him. The grip is firm and threatening, and Rick doesn’t have to look back to know it’s Negan. Still, he does. He finds himself face-to-face with a stern glare and a pair of normally dark eyes alight with warning. Any fierceness in Rick’s own gaze dies like a candle in the wind, and it gives way to the face of despair.

“ _Negan_...” Rick pleads. The unspoken ‘ _stop them_ ’ lingers in his gaze. Rick can tell Negan sees it, as the larger man turns his attention up to both of his Saviors afterward.

“Boys,” Negan sighs, though he still looks as cold as ever, “I think you got your point across. Just lock his ass up before he gets any more bright ideas.”

Rick isn’t sure if he feels relief or sadness that Aaron doesn’t fight it when Gary and David lead him away this time. Either way, his shoulders slump. He knows better than to try and fight what’s going on any further. Negan’s not above making it worse for Aaron, and no matter how frustrated Rick is, he knows better than to push the envelope.

Instead, he doubles back and returns his focus to Negan. It takes more energy than Rick cares to exert, but he swallows any negative feelings he might have right now and returns to the topic he’d had in mind before the altercation with Aaron.

“We need to talk,” he repeats.

When Negan turns to look back at Rick, he’s grinning once more. Like the impulsive asshole he is, Negan’s already calmed back down and has his mind on what he wants it to be on.

Which is Rick. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that.

“I heard you the first time, baby,” Negan all-but coos, and Rick hates himself for the way the other man’s words make him shudder. He thanks whatever god there is that there isn’t anyone from Alexandria within earshot at this point. No matter what happened to Aaron just now, Rick’s still at this guy’s mercy in every sense of the phrase.

Either way, Negan’s got his arm right back around Rick’s shoulders in a matter of seconds, guiding him along. It’s pretty obvious that the destination is Rick’s house, even though neither man says a word as they walk. Rick’s got no clue what’s on Negan’s mind, but he knows for certain that he himself is in deep contemplation of a great many things.

Aaron’s well-being is at the forefront. Negan’s made it clear to his men that they’re not to harm him any further, but how far does that rule go? Gary had punched Aaron without permission, and Negan hadn’t so much as batted an eyelash. Naturally, Rick’s going to worry.

But when he said he needed to talk to Negan, he meant it. They’ve got to discuss the terms of their agreement, and Rick’s got to make sure Negan’s not doing any more pickups. And once they’re in the privacy of their home, Rick’s sure Negan’s going to pick up where he left off the last time.

It’s strange, how he’s spent the past nearly two weeks off and on fantasizing about what Negan’s going to do to him next. How arousing and unsettling that had been all at the same time. But the weirdest part is that he doesn’t feel that right now. It’s like the minute Negan resurfaces, all he feels is unsettled.

Chances are, it’s because Rick knows when he looks at Negan that there’s more to him than whatever primal urges he may be contemplating satisfying. There’s the guy who killed people Rick considered family. The guy who just let his men drag away one of Rick’s family. The guy who laughs at death like it’s a bad pun. Rick _hates_ him.

But that doesn’t stop him from melting right into Negan’s grip when the doors are shut and the other man sweeps him up into his arms and kisses him.

Everything Negan does is effortless. His grip is gentle and somehow earnest at the same time. Rick’s not exactly a small guy, but Negan pulls him in close like it’s nothing. He’s got one arm around the small of Rick’s back and the other hand planted right in the middle of Rick’s shoulder blades, and Rick pathetically collapses right into it.

It’s a deliberate kiss--one Negan must have been holding back for quite some time. It frightens Rick somewhat how easily they fall into motion together. Their mouths come apart simultaneously, and fall shut in unison. Negan takes it slow, and puts an insurmountable volume of feeling into every second of it.

Needless to say, Rick’s all-but gasping for breath when Negan backs off from the embrace. He gawks stupidly at the other man, kiss-swollen lips hanging open with a shock he wishes he wasn’t feeling. And Negan just smirks. He looks so put-together even though Rick’s pretty sure that’s the most intense kiss he’s had in a long time. Just under two weeks of pent-up sexual tension sits right under the surface, and Rick has to tell himself not to dive back in for more.

Why does Negan have this effect on him?

“Je-heesus,” Negan praises, licking at his already wet lips, “I’m just going to venture a guess that you may have fucking missed me a little, Rick.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rick spits out before he can even stop himself. He almost regrets his words, but when he notices the smirk still hanging ever-present on Negan’s mouth, he relaxes somewhat. “You made the first move.”

Negan doesn’t say anything at all. Just watches Rick with that stupid grin on his face, and Rick knows it’s because he already looks like a goddamn mess in front of him. How embarrassing.

“Aaron has someone,” Rick tries while he has the chance, “and it’s not me. Neither of us _want_ it to be me.”

“I know,” Negan responds with a shrug.

That answer digs at Rick like a needle picking out a splinter. He narrows his eyes up at Negan.

“You _locked_ him up.”

Negan doesn’t seem to take offense to Rick’s harsh statement. He just continues to grin placidly down at the smaller man, as if he’s waiting for more.

Rick’s mistake is giving him just that.

“He’s an _innocent man_ , Negan,” Rick snarls. “And you sent your Saviors to _lock him up._ ”

He doesn’t remember Negan ever getting closer to him, but the instant he finishes his words, he’s got the larger man in his face, that familiar glint of threatening in his eyes and his teeth bared. Rick backs up a step, and Negan closes the distance between them again.

“Careful, Rick,” Negan warns. Somehow, he’s smirking. With all the ferocity hanging low in his voice, he’s still got his mouth curved up in that disgustingly fierce grin. “You and I may have a deal, but you’re _really_ tugging at some threads I can guaran-goddamn-tee you’d rather not fuck with.”

This isn’t fair. Aaron’s locked away somewhere, and Rick can do nothing to help him. Negan’s cruel and self-centered and downright _evil_ , and Rick’s at his beck and call just like everyone else. He curses the fact that he hadn’t included more power in the terms of their agreement.

“Your buddy was locked away because he wasn’t doing what he was told,” Negan clarifies amidst Rick’s silence. “ _Not_ because I didn’t believe your answer. Trust me, babe...” Rick shudders when Negan’s fingers brush the side of his face, “If I knew you were being unfaithful, he wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.”

Rick believes him. He doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that Negan would find some way to punish him if he thought he was being cheated on. The Alexandria leader isn’t exactly sure what to call the result of his agreement with Negan, but if this man’s going to treat it like a relationship, then he guesses that’s what it is. It sounds better than ownership, though it’s debatable that it isn’t that, either.

Negan doesn’t give him a chance to talk about it. Instead, he claps Rick on the shoulder and lets out a cheery, “Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

This is how Negan has been since Rick met him. He can never predict which way the Sanctuary leader is going to go. When Rick thinks he's going to bob, he weaves. When Rick says something that he suspects is going to piss Negan off, it instead excites him. Before the world ended, Rick loved roller coasters. But Negan's a ride Rick can't help but get motion sickness from.

But when he mentally shakes off the whiplash, Rick finds he kind of appreciates the subject change. Negan’s got a point, whether it’s the same one Rick’s thinking about or not. Either way, the Alexandria leader clears his throat and nods toward the nearest window--one that looks out onto the streets of his community.

“Your Saviors have been here for almost a week now,” he says. “Kinda weird when they’re here and you’re not.”

Negan cocks an eyebrow. Rick notices that he makes no move to draw closer or farther away. He also takes note that the other man doesn’t respond.

“I asked Gary about it,” Rick continues. “He told me you wanted someone to keep an eye on Alexandria in between pickups.”

“That’s right,” Negan answers, as confident and self-assured as ever. Rick grits his teeth.

“The deal was, no pickups,” Rick grinds out through his clenched jaw.

Negan sighs, and Rick watches the understanding wash across his face. For a moment, he has hope. But that doesn’t last long. Rick observes as Negan rests Lucille on a nearby side table, then moves to place his hands on his hips. “That _was_ the deal, yeah.”

Rick outright glares at him. “ _Is_ the deal. You don’t get rid of pickups, and the deal’s _off_.” No amount of unhealthy interest in Negan’s next move can make Rick change his mind. His people come first, and if Negan’s going to go back on his end of the deal, so is Rick.

He watches Negan’s eyebrows both shoot up onto his forehead, and sees the larger man lean back a little in cold contemplation. His expression is unreadable in the most unnervingly familiar way. It’s that look Negan gets right before he does something impulsive.

“Last I recalled, Rick,” Negan responds, voice strangely flat, “you weren’t the fucking boss of me.”

“This isn’t about who’s boss,” Rick argues. He reels his tone in a little, for safety’s sake. “It’s about the fact that we had an agreement. I don’t ask much from you, Negan, but this is important to me.”

The foggy expression stays put on Negan’s face. “No, no. It _is_ about who’s boss.” He motions to himself via a hand flat on his chest. “And _I’m_ the boss. And _I_ say the deal’s changed.”

Rick doesn’t respond. He can’t fight back the way he’s looking at Negan, with his eyes narrowed and lips flat in a fury he’s trying desperately to keep to himself. For now, it’s best to just wait and see what Negan has to say.

“Do you really think I can cut off every last goddamn pickup you people owe me?” Negan questions simply. His word choice is awful, and Rick doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that his own anger shows right on the forefront of his features at this point. How in the hell is he supposed to just _be okay_ with what he’s being told right now?

“Yeah, I do,” Rick answers curtly. “It was part of our deal.”

“Welp,” Negan stretches, cracks his neck, and then turns a very dark pair of eyes back down to regard Rick, “you thought wrong, then.”

And then, Negan’s advancing on Rick again, shoulders hunched, eyes wide and full of bloodlust. He moves quickly--so much so that Rick instinctively backs up in anticipation of a collision. Negan keeps moving, though, and before Rick knows what’s happened, his back is flush against a wall and Negan is less than an inch from his face.

His mind flickers back to the first time it was like this. With Negan up close, voice and demeanor sultry and his body warm against Rick’s. But this time, it’s totally different. Negan’s in his face, those dark eyes narrowed and locked onto Rick’s own. Negan’s got a fist planted against the wall next to Rick’s head, and the threat in his voice has sucked the air right out of the smaller man’s personal bubble.

“Rick…” He growls, his voice a low, threatening rumble, as he cocks his head slowly and takes in a deep, rattling breath. “I like this fiery side of you, but you’re making a NASCAR-worthy approach on some forbidden fucking territory. It's best you hit the brakes.”

By the time Negan finishes, Rick feels like he’s suffocating. He’s got his back pressed so hard against the wall that his shoulder blades are going numb, and at some point in time, he has braced his hands up against the cold surface behind him. Rick doesn’t realize it until after Negan finishes speaking, but he’s been holding his breath ever since the distance was so abruptly closed between them.

But in the blink of an eye, Negan has backed off again and is smiling almost serenely at Rick. As if he hadn’t just damn near sucked the life out of the smaller man with his frightening behavior, he’s grinning. Like they’re talking about the damned weather.

He crooks his head to the side. “Let’s have dinner, Rick.”

It’s such a strange transition that it leaves Rick’s mind addled with confusion during the course of the next several moments. As Rick is sifting through cabinets, checking to see if he has anything left in his house for them to eat, Negan steps out onto the porch and the loud roar of a car’s engine rumbles its way up the street. Rick sees one of Negan’s henchmen clamber out of a gaudy-looking black car with oversized tires, a gym bag in hand. Negan flags Rick down, nodding for him to step out onto the porch with him.

“Look at _this_ , Rick!” Negan jeers as Rick makes his approach. As he so naturally seems to do anymore, the larger man pulls Rick next to him via an arm around the shoulders and motions with his free hand to the ugly black vehicle parked in front of the house. “Isn't she beautiful?”

Rick doesn't say anything. Frankly, he’s still furious that Negan has decided to change the terms of their agreement. And because their argument damn near escalated into something dangerous before ending as suddenly as it started, Rick still doesn’t know why Negan suddenly decided to change how their deal was going to work behind his back, without consulting him.

So at present, he reverts right back to the state he was in before he and Negan had struck their deal: silent, glaring straight ahead of him, trying his best to keep himself from looking at Negan like he wants to kill him.

Whether or not Negan notices, Rick doesn’t care. He just lets the other man carry on about his car, accept the gym bag that’s been delivered to him, and redirect Rick back inside his home.

For a moment, Rick watches Negan rifle through the bag and place items onto the counter in the kitchen. He pulls out a lunch pack, a box of noodles, wine bottle, and several different cans of vegetables. Stuff that doesn’t really surprise Rick at first--at least, until Negan opens the lunch pack and pulls out what appears to be a chunk of meat wrapped up in foil.

And then he’s angry again. He designates himself to setting the table and cleaning up any mess Negan leaves, pointedly avoiding any type of verbal exchange. It isn’t like he’d be very good for conversation at the moment, anyway. His mind is too busy reeling over wondering just where Negan got that fresh meat. Sure, it’s possible they raise livestock at the Sanctuary, but Negan’s track record has Rick curious to know if he’d pilfered some of the animals from another community under his control.

With as rare a resource as livestock is anymore, Rick has reason to be more angry with Negan than usual.

It’s not surprising that Negan picks up on it, either. Rick isn’t exactly trying to hide it, and Negan pays a monumental shit-ton of attention to him, so the guy was bound to notice eventually. On top of that, Rick can put his hatred aside and acknowledge that Negan is incredibly perceptive. To Rick, it just seems like the Sanctuary leader is pleasantly brushing his notice of the fact aside. He’s got to be used to Rick hating him as it is, anyway.

But even so, it’s still a little surprising to Rick that Negan doesn’t mention the whole thing until they’re well into their meal. Rick is lost in thought, wondering if it’s actually fair to be consuming food that was probably stolen out of the hands of an innocent group of people, but he’s also torn, because it smells good. Rick isn’t sure if it’s because he hasn’t eaten a home-cooked meal like this in months or if Negan’s just a good cook, but the scent of a freshly prepared dinner like this one is almost irresistible.

He caves to his urges eventually, though, and finds himself digging in shamelessly after the first bite. He tries to reassure himself that it’s because Negan will undoubtedly take offense if he doesn’t try and enjoy the meal, but even Rick, as thoughtful as he is, knows better than to think he’s chowing down for anyone other than himself right now.

About halfway through a bowl of what Rick now recognizes as some sort of thrown-together beef stew, Negan speaks up.

“I didn’t change the terms of our deal to screw you over,” Negan explains aloud, his voice too calm for Rick’s sanity. He glances up from the meal he’s been gluttoning himself away at and locks eyes with Negan, waiting for the other man to keep speaking. No doubt he will.

And he does. After taking a swig of his wine, Negan clears his throat. “When I told you you had a deal, I fucking meant it.” Rick notices how he’s being nothing short of civil with him--trying to clear the air. It might have been admirable if it had come from anyone else. “But when you go making deals like this one, you have to sit back and examine your environment.” Using his fork, he starts pointing to different imaginary items in front of him in succession with his words. “I let you have complete freedom from pickups, and then this community finds out down the grapevine and starts wondering what the hell kind of sweet-talking you did to win my kindness, which even I can admit I’m not in ample goddamn supply of. And then, this group over here learns about it. They start bringing it up to my Saviors, and the aforementioned Saviors start asking me questions. Next thing you know, Negan isn’t so tough anymore, and _maybe_ these people think they can stand a chance in a revolt.”

Negan’s words make perfect sense from a professional standpoint, and this bothers Rick more than he cares to let on. He tries to distract himself from his own anger via another bite of Negan’s home-cooked dinner.

“They can’t,” Negan continues, “but that’s not the point. The point is, I can’t give them any fucking reason to try. I’m a busy man, Rick--I don’t have time to correct a bunch of bullshit misbehavior, much less to babysit all you people like children.”

Rick swallows a bite of his stew. “So, the deal’s off, then.” He doesn’t intend for his words to be as curt as they are, but it isn’t like he can take them back now.

“No.” Rick picks up a slight tinge of impatience in Negan’s voice. “It’s not. I wish you’d quit saying that shit to me.” He sighs, pushes his bowl away as if to indicate he’s finished eating, and focuses once more on speaking. “Believe it or not, I fully intend to make good on my end of the deal in some way or another. You’re being uncharacteristically fucking quick to judge today, Rick.”

Rick just takes one last bite of his meal while he waits for Negan to continue.

“I can’t give up on pickups altogether,” Negan explains. “But seeing as you’re giving a little extra, I can definitely justify cutting down on how often we stop by for them. For now, you’re looking, tentatively, at a collection every three weeks. And we’ll take a third of what you have instead of half. Can you live with that, Rick?” Rick hates the way Negan leans forward, resting his elbows on the dining room table, and smirks almost tauntingly--as if he knows Rick isn’t going to be happy with the choice he’s being given. “Do we have a _deal?_ ”

At this point, Rick doesn’t even _have_ a choice. Cutting pickup visits by two-thirds is all Negan is going to give him, and if he decides not to accept, it’s back to scrounging around desperately as usual. He tries to be optimistic by imagining just how much a difference nearly two weeks made. And at the very least, Negan _did_ say he was going to take a third of everything now, rather than half. That’s a few more mouths Rick can feed.

“...Yeah.” Rick glares down at his empty bowl, because he knows he’s not going to be able to look up at Negan with actual agreement on his face. He doesn’t feel like being questioned about it.

There’s a tense silence, before Negan finally cheers back, “Good!”

When he starts shifting around enough to cause a racket, Rick looks up across the table at him. Negan has pivoted toward the kitchen counter and is nodding his head toward the gym bag resting atop it. “Now, Rick! I got you a surprise. Why don’t you go have a look inside?”


	5. Chapter 5

Rick doesn’t move. He can’t help it. How in the hell is he supposed to respond to that? Literally right after talking about taking things from Alexandria, Negan is offering Rick something? He can only imagine what it is. So, out of pure unease, he stays rooted to the spot.

“What’s this?” Negan doesn’t seem to take offense. If anything, he looks amused--yet another abrupt change in personality that Rick can’t keep up with. “You want me to bring it to you or some shit, Rick? Fine by me…”

Rick follows Negan with his eyes, watching as the larger man stands up and rounds the table. He sifts through the bag until he withdraws what Rick recognizes with horror is a collar. It’s thick and black and looks almost like a small belt, and Rick finds himself swallowing a lump of anxiety down in his throat. Of _course_ this would be something Negan would consider a gift. Rick honestly isn’t sure what he was expecting Negan to remove from that bag, but a collar...he shouldn’t be surprised.

As Negan approaches Rick, he meets those dark eyes with his own. He’s trying to look stubborn, even angry, but he knows that the simple fear of not knowing what’s going to happen next has complete control over his expression right now. Rick feels sick to his stomach when Negan pivots the chair so that they’re facing one another.

The collar is cold around Rick’s neck, but he doesn’t protest. He’s accepted the new terms to their agreement, after all. And this is him holding up his end of the deal. He almost feels humiliated, because Negan has all these wives, and rather than make Rick a husband, this feels far more like he’s being made into a _pet_.

“Oh, _fuck me…_ ” Negan’s voice is guttural and heavy and so intense that Rick actually feels a little grounded by the weight of his words. He watches the way Negan’s eyes scan his face, then move down along to his throat, undoubtedly the collar around it, and then the larger man’s teeth sink into his own lower lip as if he’s trying to swallow something down. “You have _no_ fucking clue how perfect this thing looks on you…” One of Negan’s long fingers dips into the space between Rick’s throat and the collar, followed by a gentle tug. ‘ _At least it’s decently loose’_ , Rick notes.

Negan brings a hand up to the side of Rick’s face. Negan has long fingers, and they somehow feel both rough and gentle at the same time. Weathered, a little bit calloused, but so comforting along Rick’s cheek. His mouth falls open just a little as Negan’s thumb drifts along his lower lip, and then moves down to his chin, tipping his head up a little more.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby…” Negan all-but coos, as he raises his free hand to his own neck and slowly pulls the red bandana around it free. “If you could see yourself, you’d understand.”

Rick isn’t sure if Negan’s trying to be ironic with that statement or not, but right afterward, he’s folding his bandana up and then placing it over Rick’s eyes. The smaller man shivers involuntarily at the sound the cloth makes as it’s tied around the back of his head, and even though he can’t see right now, he turns his head up to look in Negan’s direction.

His reward is that hand returning to the side of his face and a strangely gentle kiss to his lips. Negan lingers, as if waiting for Rick to respond, to which Rick observes that this man’s kisses are as erratic and unpredictable as his personality is. He hates how that makes his stomach flip.

But a few seconds later, Negan’s gone. Rick feels him pull away, and then hears him walking. On instinct, his head follows the sounds of Negan’s footsteps. He hears a loud swooshing noise, followed by a gentle thudding, which he eventually realizes is the sound of the windows being pulled shut. Rick doesn’t have to think much about it when he hears Negan pull the blinds.

During the start of his blindness, Rick realizes just how much he’s taken his eyesight for granted. He has no idea what time it is right now, having not bothered to look before Negan took away his sight, or how long he and Negan have spent preparing and eating dinner in his house. He doesn’t know if it’s starting to get dark outside, or if it looked like it was going to rain earlier. He hadn’t thought about any of it until now. How Carl’s gotten by this long on one eye, Rick will never know. Even temporarily blind, he feels vulnerable and useless and afraid.

He tries to refer to his other senses. He can hear Negan moving about the house, and the change in footsteps when Negan enters the kitchen. He smells the leather of the Sanctuary leader’s jacket, feels the vibration of the man’s voice deep in his bones. He’s afraid. Whether Rick wants to admit it or not, he’s afraid. He feels weaker than he did on his knees in front of Negan outside of that RV. Chances are, that’s exactly how Negan wants him to feel.

When the sound of Negan’s footsteps comes up on Rick from behind and the scent of his leather jacket becomes more powerful, Rick feels himself go rigid. He doesn’t remember being this afraid the day they made their agreement. Maybe he wondered just how far Negan was going to go, but now, he doesn’t even know what the other man has in mind, let alone how far he’s going to take it. It’s the best he can do to remain rooted to the spot in this dining room chair and just _anticipate_ what’s going to come next.

The next move, as it turns out, is Negan’s hands on Rick’s shoulders, massaging. “Look at you…” that deep voice rumbles behind Rick, eliciting a shudder from him he’d rather not feel. “You’re so tense. Relax, Rick...I’m not gonna do anything to you that I don't feel like you can handle.”

“...What _are_ you gonna do?” Rick dares to ask. He feels he has the right to, but he doesn’t get his hopes up for an answer.

He feels Negan’s arms slide down until he’s embracing him from behind. A kiss is pressed to Rick’s temple, over the fabric tied around his head.

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Negan mutters against the shell of Rick’s ear. “If I tell you what I’m gonna do, what’s the point in a fucking blindfold?”

Rick hates being at Negan’s mercy. He hated it outside of the RV, when his son’s arm was put at stake, one of his best friends was stolen away, and two people he considered family were killed right in front of him. He hated it when Negan showed up and went through every single house in Alexandria. He hated every single pickup until now, and he still hates it. It’s a vicious, never-ending cycle, and Rick absolutely loathes it. How he longs to be in control, and how Negan loves to wave his lack thereof in his face.

“...Fine,” Rick chokes as he feels the warmth of Negan’s gloved hand dragging down along his front. A not-surprisingly deft set of fingers works open the first button of Rick’s shirt, and as those leather-bound fingertips slide into Rick’s shirt, he inhales sharply.

“What kind of guy are you, hmm?” Negan questions teasingly into Rick’s ear. “Do you like it rough--having shit pulled on and scratched--or do you want me to be gentle?”

Rick feels dizzy, almost as if Negan’s words are swimming around him rather than being spoken to him. His senses feel like they might go crazy as Negan brushes his thumb over a nipple and then lightly pinches it between his fingers. With Negan’s bandana over his eyes, Rick feels the contact so much more intensely, and whether he wants to or not, his back arches up off the chair and into the hand teasing him.

If Negan expects Rick to answer in this state, he’s out of his damn mind.

“Mmm….” Negan practically purrs. “That sure as shit didn’t take much. You like that, huh?”

Rick wants to tell him to stop talking, but Negan just has this way about him of bringing back memories of every little thing he’s ever done all in one overwhelming sequence. Right now, Rick is remembering Negan kissing him roughly, rubbing his erection through his jeans, and taunting him afterward. He’s remembering struggling for days not to let Negan’s words get to him. He’s remembering several split second moments wherein he actually wanted Negan to _come back_.

And he’s hating himself for it.

Needless to say, he doesn’t speak. It doesn’t matter anyway, though, because Negan’s fingers don’t stop with his chest. The larger man raises his gloved fingers to Rick’s lips, and Rick can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Help me take this off, darlin’,” Negan urges. “This glove _looks_ cool as fuck, but I’m too busy exploring to be aesthetically pleasing.”

Rick briefly entertains the idea of biting Negan’s finger, but decides against it. He complies to the request, taking the tip of the leathery material between his teeth. He pulls up, and when he feels Negan’s hand slide free of the article, jerks his head off to the side and casts the glove away from him. He has no idea where it lands, but he hears the soft noise of it hitting the ground somewhere nearby.

“That’s my _boy_ , Rick,” Negan encourages in that sultry voice of his. “You know, I like this obedient side of you. You know when you’ve met your match, and you’re so fucking perceptive, it should be illegal. I’m _aching_ to tear you apart right now…”

Negan’s got his teeth on the sharp curve of Rick’s jaw, his now bare fingers slipping into Rick’s mouth. Two digits find their way inside and come back wet, and as Negan chuckles against his partner’s jawline, he draws that hand back down to Rick’s chest once more.

“Say my name, baby…” Negan requests, while his free hand starts tugging open the rest of the buttons on Rick’s shirt. “Tell me who’s doing this to you. Make me _real_ proud of you.” He pinches Rick’s nipple between those wet fingers, and it isn’t just the moisture that gets the smaller man. It’s the cool air that surrounds him in the wake of that moisture. He hisses and rolls his head back to rest against Negan’s shoulder.

He almost forgets to speak, with his mind as hazy from Negan’s present influence on him as it is right now. But nearly two seconds in, he finally manages to choke out a raspy, “Negan…”

The noise that rumbles up from the base of Negan’s throat is somewhere between a laugh and a growl, and it shakes Rick right down to the core. He feels that wet hand slide down along his stomach, before settling over the crotch of his pants and giving him a rough squeeze. “I didn’t quite hear you. I want you to _say my name_ , Rick…”

Rick feels as disgusted as he is aroused. He’s growing harder in the grip of the man teasing him, and not being able to see what Negan’s face looks like or where his hands are about to go is driving him crazy. He is quite literally at this man’s beck and call and he feels embarrassed.

“Negan,” Rick snarls, frustrated. It’s little bursts of emotion like these that are going to land Rick in hot water, but he’s just one guy. He can only take so much.

“Huh.” Just as suddenly as Negan was on Rick, he’s off of him. Rick hears him back away a few steps, and he’s as distressed about Negan backing away as he is relieved. This confusion, and these conflicting emotions...they’re going to be the death of him.

And then Negan’s voice is in front of Rick, and that mouth is on the smaller man’s all over again. The kiss is rough and demanding, and when Negan breaks off the sudden liplock, he doesn’t back away at all. In fact, his words are spoken right against Rick’s lips next, as that goddamn hand is back between his legs, palming him far too aggressively for his partner’s comfort.

“I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, Rick,” Negan grumbles into a not-quite-kiss. “You want me to yank your drawers down and start pumping you like a goddamn bike tire? Want me to suck you off? Fuck you with my fingers until you can’t even come up with the words to scream my name? Is that what you want?”

Rick doesn’t realize it until Negan backs away yet again, but his hips have been bucking up into the hand touching him. When Negan’s warmth fades away from Rick for the third time, he damn near _whines_. He wants to sock this guy so hard it knocks him off his feet. How good would it feel to call him out on just how manipulative and unfair he is right now? Rick can only imagine. Just the thought of beating the hell out of Negan turns him on even more.

But then Negan starts talking once more. Makes Rick hate himself, and Negan, all over again.

“I don’t think you’ve earned that. But I do have a few things in mind…” As he speaks, Negan pulls Rick up to his feet by his underarm and guides him in a direction Rick can only assume by muscle memory leads to the living room. He feels carpet under his feet, and then Negan’s hands on his front, slowly pushing his shirt off his shoulders.

Rick wonders how long it’s going to take Negan to make up his mind. One minute, he’s on Rick, whispering sweet nothings to him. The next, he’s not. Sometimes, he’s trying to make Rick angry. Others, he’s civil and friendly. He calls Rick sweet names like ‘baby’ and ‘darling’, but then turns around and treats him like a damned imbecile.

So when Rick realizes he’s being tied up, he's even less okay with the whole situation. He knows better than to fight it, but that doesn’t make him any less disgusted.

Negan tries to be sweet about it, which is something Rick supposes he should acknowledge. But he can't. Even as Negan cards his fingers through Rick's hair and tells him how good he looks while he peels the smaller man's shirt off his arms and his pants off his legs, Rick can't bring himself to accept what’s happening.

Or rather, he comes to terms with it bitterly. His throat is tight with anxiety and his head throbbing from frustration. He’s on his knees, presumably right next to the coffee table if Rick’s recollection of the layout of his house is correct, and he’s completely naked. Negan’s got him tied up, with his wrists bound behind his back. His ankles are tied up as well, with a long fragment of the binding connecting them all together.

At the very least, he’s not as hard as he was before. That fact helps Rick to stay more focused on the situation at hand. Which is the fact that Negan is still somewhere in Rick’s general vicinity, doing god-knows-what. Rick honestly doesn’t want to know what else he has planned.

Rick hears the gentle rattling of something metal being placed upon what he assumes is the nearby coffee table, and then the heavy thud of Negan’s boots as he makes his approach again. Rick doesn’t bother turning his head up to regard the other man this time. Negan will grab his attention if he wants it.

Negan doesn’t speak immediately. He just laughs. Rick feels the gentle breeze of him dropping to his knees in front of him. When Negan’s knuckles brush the side of Rick’s face, he finally turns his head up and peers ahead.

“I love the way you look right now…” Negan says. Rick swallows a lump in his throat as the larger man opens his hand and lets his fingers drift down along his partner’s neck, collarbone, chest, all the way past his abdomen and to his groin. “You’re goddamn beautiful.”

Rick feels Negan’s long fingers curl around his cock and give him a few strokes. His body is honestly a little desensitized to the whole situation, but soon enough, Negan’s gesticulations have him right back in that overwhelmed, hazy-minded state of pleasure and confusion.

It’s not just his touch that does it to Rick. It’s how wild and erratic Negan is in general. It’s the gentle kisses he’s placing on Rick’s neck, above the collar he honestly feels claustrophobic in. It’s in the praising words, and the harshness of his tone somehow playing out right along with the deliberation of his actions. Negan always somehow manages to keep Rick’s mind blown right out of the water, and it leaves Rick wondering what’s coming next.

He unwittingly wants more.

“You’re gonna be so good to me here in a few seconds,” Negan voices as he slides something around Rick’s erection. It’s stretchy, almost rubbery in texture, but it’s tight. And Negan pulls it all the way to the base, tugging his balls into the embrace of the almost uncomfortable material.

“...What the hell, Negan?” Rick chokes, suddenly wracked with anticipation all over again. He feels cold and uncomfortable. Not knowing is killing him.

“Relax, babe,” Negan reassures as he kisses Rick’s bottom lip. “I just don’t want you getting too fucking excited for me. You have to earn that shit, remember?”

How can he say that right now? While he’s pumping away on Rick’s cock, and sucking along his collarbone? Negan doesn’t want Rick to get too excited, and yet he’s going to take one of the blindfolded man’s nipples into his mouth and stroke him in time with the flicking of his tongue? He’s going to _drive Rick crazy_ with pleasure and arousal and _fucking anger_ , but he doesn’t want him to get too excited?

 _Fuck_ him.

“Oh, shit…” Negan whistles, and Rick hears him stand up. “Your dick’s getting all weepy for me already. Must be real fucking into what I’m doing to you, Rick.” Rick hears him take a step or two away. The metal object on the table clanks again as Rick assumes Negan picks it up. “I like that. I’ll take it to heart.”

The silence that follows makes Rick extremely uncomfortable. As if Rick’s mind is a skipping CD, the fear of not knowing repeats itself, and when Negan drops again and lets out a long sigh, Rick finds himself trying desperately to swallow down anxiety clawing its way up his throat.

“I’ve got something I’m gonna put on you, Rick,” Negan starts. Rick has to resist the urge to scoff, because _was the collar not good enough?_ But he keeps his mouth shut for now and just lets Negan continue. “I don’t want you to take it personally or get too freaked out on me, though. It’s just...I’ve _really_ been wanting to fuck the shit out of your mouth ever since the first time you got onto your knees for me. I’m _gonna_ fuck the shit out your mouth. But I also like my dick, and I wouldn’t put it past you to take one from your penis-clomping buddy and chow down while I’m going to town on you.”

Negan’s thumb grazes the corner of Rick’s lips, and even though Rick can’t see, he can tell Negan is grinning. A slow, husky chuckle falls from Negan’s lips.

“Open up for me, baby,” Negan orders.

Rick’s fists clench, but he obeys despite the somewhat defiant gesture. His mouth falls open.

He damn near snaps it right back shut when Negan laughs again. “No, you’re gonna need to open wider than that.”

The humiliation intensifies when Negan’s thumb pries Rick’s mouth further open. Rick isn’t fighting it, but that doesn’t make him feel any less frustrated right now.

And when something cold and metal soon finds itself in his mouth, holding it open, Rick suddenly realizes just how much he uses his mouth when it’s closed. It’s hard to swallow with his jaw open, and it suddenly feels like too much air is being drawn into his lungs. Rick feels vulnerable and uncomfortable, and before he can stop himself, his face is red with anger and humiliation.

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

Whatever the cold thing is, it’s got what feels like metal wires extending out across his cheeks. Rick doesn’t imagine he’s ever seen whatever is on his face right now, but he also finds himself blindly trusting that Negan knows what he’s doing with it. He doesn’t have a choice but to trust him. That thought alone has Rick furious, and he can’t even use the facial muscles necessary to convey a scowl up at Negan.

Rick feels completely useless, but that’s probably the way it’s supposed to be. He realizes he can’t even control how much he’s salivating with his mouth propped open like this, and it’s difficult to swallow any of it down.

Not that Negan seems to mind. Rick hears him whistle in approval, which makes him shiver with discomfort. He’s never had another man’s _anything_ in his mouth, let alone with the assistance of some sort of metal gag. And he also has no idea how far Negan is going to take it. The whole situation is confusing and overwhelming, because Negan has made it impossible to tell which way he’s going to go for even a second of it. Is he going to be gentle and slow and mindful of Rick’s throat and just how much he can hold, or is he going to take a handful of Rick’s hair and fuck into him like his life depends on it?

In all honesty, Rick is terrified.

“God _damn_ , you’re gorgeous,” Negan praises, and Rick’s blood damn near turns to ice when he hears the sound of a zipper being pulled open. It’s not Negan’s jacket--Rick can tell that by the duration of the sound. At the same time Rick fears what’s coming next, however, he suddenly finds himself curious. He realizes he actually _wants_ to see. He wants to know if everything Negan’s been doing to him has been turning the man on as much as he’s been bragging about. There’s a part of Rick, one he himself doesn’t understand, that longs to drive Negan crazy like this.

Rick knows it’s not because he actually cares about Negan. After all, how does someone go about caring about a ruthless man like him? No, it’s about Rick knowing he’s got some sort of influence on Negan. It’s about having some tiny ounce of control--about not being completely and utterly useless right now. It’s about not being the little victim Negan wants him to be. One last tiny act of defiance before Rick has no choice but to give in.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good, baby…” Negan all-but whispers, and Rick finds himself wishing he had the ability to demand for Negan to just get it over with already. He also knows how much Negan likes to talk, though, so he’s not about to get his hopes up.

Rick twitches violently when he feels Negan’s fingers at the front of his hairline, and shivers when the larger man’s hand cards through the strands, all the way back to just above where his handkerchief is tied around the back of Rick’s hair. “It’s like you were made for this.”

Rick wishes he could grit his teeth. He involuntarily tries to, but when the metal between them blocks him from doing so, he relents. Frustrated, he caves in and just waits for Negan to keep going.

Rick’s reward comes in the form of the sensation of skin on the tip of his tongue and Negan’s fingers curling around his hair to hold him steady. There’s a tinge of moisture--not much--but when Rick realizes it’s the head of Negan’s cock touching him right now, he knows he’s feeling pre-come. With his mouth hanging open like this, it’s kind of hard to taste it, though he does catch a bit of bitterness. His breathing hitches in his throat, and Negan chuckles heavily in response.

“See?” Negan lilts, and Rick swears he hears the other man tip his head sideways. “Not bad, right? Rick, you should’ve fucking seen yourself that night, all on your knees for me. Damn near got my rocks off just looking at you. Well, you can bet your sweet ass that I’m about to make good on some pent up fucking sexual tension.”

There’s not much time after that for Rick to think, because soon enough, his mouth is growing fuller and fuller with Negan’s cock. Rick hears the larger man let out a low moan as his erection drags along his partner’s slick tongue and further into his mouth.

“Don’t worry, darlin’...” The tone in Negan’s voice tells Rick he’s smiling. Whether he’s grinning that wolflike _Negan_ grin or not is beyond the smaller man, but there’s some level of entertainment in his voice. “I’ll take it slow. Bet you’ve never sucked anyone off before, huh? This whole experience is new to you. I can respect that.”

It does feel like Negan’s trying to be wary of that fact, too. Rick feels him pull back, and then slowly ease himself in again. He keeps his fingers in Rick’s hair, gently pulling the other man a little closer to him.

This isn’t so bad. Rick can handle something like this. Even as Negan pushes Rick a little further with each slow thrust, it’s at a pace Rick can keep up with. It’s a challenge learning to adjust to Negan’s size, though. Rick can’t control much with his mouth propped open by the object strapped around his head, either.

“Oh, yeah,” Negan growls, and Rick notices his tempo quickens a bit. “That’s good. Real fucking good. You’re so goddamn warm…”

Rick should have known to take those words as a warning. But he doesn’t. He blindly trusts that Negan’s going to keep the pace he’s going at right now, because Negan himself had promised to do so.

But either the larger man has lost his senses a little in the pleasure surrounding his cock, or he has just decided not to honor the promise he made moments ago, because his grip on Rick’s hair suddenly strengthens, and the gentle rocking of his hips escalates into actual thrusts.

At the very least, they’re shallow to start with. Negan seems to be attempting to mind the fact that Rick’s mouth isn’t as big as his cock, but that doesn’t last long. Soon enough, Rick feels Negan’s other hand on the top of his head and Negan’s doing exactly what he’d said he was going to do earlier--fucking Rick’s mouth.

It’s hard to follow along now, not that it matters. Negan likely wants Rick to just sit there and take what he’s giving to him, but that doesn’t stop Rick from trying to figure out what the other man’s pace is. One minute, Negan’s thrusts are quick and erratic, and the next, he’s pushing himself in balls-deep and lingering there. Rick gags, probably visibly, nearly each time, and Negan outright laughs at him. It’s a deep, husky laugh that’s shrouded in a thick haze of pleasure.

“I know,” Negan grunts breathily, “it’s a lot. But you’re doing a fine fucking job taking it like a champ.” Rick can’t see Negan’s face, but he knows by the inflection in his voice that the larger man is smirking.

Not that Rick can really think too much about it. His mind--or mouth, rather--is quite preoccupied by what’s going on. Negan’s pace is more rapid now, and his thrusts far less shallow. His words have died off into a series of loud, aggressive panting noises. Every now and then, he curses or drops Rick’s name in the most uncomfortably delighted voice, but at this point, the sounds filling the living room are mostly Negan’s gruff sounds of pleasure, Rick’s muffled gagging, and the slick sound of Negan’s dick slipping in and out of Rick’s mouth.

As Negan’s pace quickens and grows more and more difficult to follow, Rick becomes increasingly aware of the fact that he’s probably close. He can feel the protruding of the vein on the underside of Negan’s cock against his tongue, and he’s all too aware of the way the grip of the larger man’s fingers tightens in his hair.

Rick has a split second to accept that Negan isn’t going to pull out, before he thrusts harshly forward, all the way in, and uses a vice-like grip to hold Rick there. Wet heat fills the back of Rick’s throat, and on instinct, he somehow manages to yank himself away. The result is some of Negan’s release finding its way onto his tongue and cheek, but Rick doesn’t care. He chokes and coughs as the rest of the hot substance runs its way down his throat.

And like that, Rick’s at his limit. His stomach instantly aches, making him feel like throwing up, and tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Doubling over with his wrists and ankles still bound, Rick breaks down.

He recalls a time when he felt this pathetic before. It was not too different from this one. Negan had still been the cause of it, and even though in a totally different sense of the word, Rick had just been royally fucked by him. The result was two dead men on the ground, a not-so-friendly road trip, and the near-loss of his son’s left arm. He felt just as vulnerable then as he does now, but at the very least, nobody’s lives have been part of the equation this time.

No, it’s just Rick’s pride. His dignity. Here he sits, with a blindfold over his eyes and his body tied up for Negan to do with as he pleases. This is the same man Rick promised to kill. The same man Rick had tried hard to stand his ground against time and time again.

_“I just slipped my dick down your throat, and you thanked me for it!”_

Rick doubts that line was actually intended as a promise of things for the future, but he’s certain that the minute he offered himself up to Negan, the other man likely had this in mind. So in a way, things have come full-circle, and Negan’s gotten his way on just about everything. However, at least Rick can say that his family stands a chance at more food now.

 _That’s_ what matters.

It doesn’t take away from the sensation of defeat Rick feels overcome with right now, but it helps. He’s still crying pathetically in front of Negan, and he still feels sick to his stomach. He wills himself not to throw up, though. The food he’d gotten to eat before this had been so _good_. Not only does Rick not want to put that to waste, but he knows Negan wouldn’t like to see him throw it up, either. No doubt he’d hear about that.

Rick hears the rustling of Negan pulling his pants back up, followed by the sound of his zipper once more. There’s another ‘whoosh’, presumably the other man crouching down once more, and then Rick feels a pair of hands on the back of his head working open the blindfold and then the gag. The red cloth falls to the ground, and afterward, Negan tips Rick’s head up and helps him remove the metal ring from his mouth. He’s already gone plenty soft, so it’s no trouble when Negan reaches down to remove the object binding his cock. In a better mindset, however, Rick might have felt a little less constricted afterward. But right now, he’s just...spent.

Rick’s jaw aches, and his throat is sore. His stomach churns when he lets his eyes rest on those of the larger man before him. Rick hates him...he hates him so damned much.

And then he’s surprised. Negan’s expression is uncharacteristically soft. His eyes are half-lidded as he takes in the sight before him. On impulse more than anything, Rick cringes when Negan’s hand finds the side of his face, and he catches himself unable to look the other man in the eyes when said other man’s thumb strokes his cheek. His gaze slips to the floor, and he hiccups, swallowing back another wave of emotion. Doesn’t stop the tears from streaming, though.

“You did so well, darlin’,” Negan praises, and Rick’s thankful his hands are still bound so that he doesn’t have to stifle the urge to punch the larger man. But Negan doesn’t seem done there. Following the words, he presses a kiss to Rick’s forehead, and then drops his hold on his partner’s face.

When Negan releases the bindings to Rick’s wrists and ankles, Rick finds he doesn’t have the energy to make good on that urge he’d thought about stifling in the first place. Uselessly, he collapses forward, right into the arms of the very man who has him feeling this way. Disgusted and humiliated as Rick is, he finds he’ll take whatever comfort he can get. And Negan is more than willing to oblige.

“That was probably pretty fucking crazy, huh?” Negan questions. Rick notices the lack of energy in the man’s voice. It actually sounds like a legitimate query, rather than some sarcastic poke at Rick’s sanity--something Negan’s got down to a science. “I got a little carried away, but you should know that was some primo goddamned blowjobbery, Rick. I’ll try to control myself a little more, next time.”

“You’re gonna do that again?” Rick chokes, his own voice hoarse. He finds that he appreciates being able to talk again, even if it makes his throat hurt.

Despite his question, Rick doesn’t pull away, even when Negan doesn't answer, instead allowing his arms to slide around Rick's frame and tug him in a little closer. He actually finds himself relaxing into the gentle kiss on his temple. His senses feel amplified even now that he has his speech and his sight back. He likes the way Negan’s fingers feel on the small of his back, stroking tender circles, and the gentle kisses the other man places on the side of his head. It's vastly different from what had happened just moments ago.

Rick doesn't understand Negan. Maybe the guy just has a keen perception that tells him when enough is enough--when to stop being rough and hungry and switch to being gentle and kind. Or maybe this caring side of him just actually exists. Both are hard for Rick to imagine, considering Negan's track record. But it's hard to picture this man as the same one who tore into Glenn and Abraham's skulls and laughed about it. Rick knows he's never going to forget what Negan did to them, or the way he used Rick himself just now, but he also knows that he has to acknowledge this softer side of Negan, even if just for tactical purposes.

At present though, tactics are the last thing on Rick’s mind. Right now, all he can think about his how tired he is, and how sick he feels, and how he just wants to clean himself up and sleep this awful excuse for a night off.

And Negan’s soft breath.

And Negan’s gentle fingers.

Negan.

Fucking _Negan_.

“C’mon,” Negan urges with a grunt, as he pushes himself to his feet and tugs Rick up by the wrists to help him do the same. The other man doesn’t keep speaking. Instead, he guides a shaky Rick toward the bathroom and helps him into a bathtub Rick realizes he’s never used before. It’s wide--could probably fit two people--but Rick finds himself thankful that Negan just takes a seat next to the tub as the water fills it up and the room becomes shrouded in a thick haze of steam. It’s almost unbearably warm, but Negan seems to want it that way. The moisture in the air is soothing. Rick guesses that’s why.

“Lean back, babe,” Negan suggests, and Rick obeys wordlessly. He relaxes against the back of the tub and closes his eyes. Negan brushes a hand across Rick’s forehead, and then those long fingers comb through the tired Alexandrian leader’s hair. Rick outright melts into the contact at this point. His head lolls to the side of the tub--the one Negan rests next to, and his eyes flicker open.

For what feels like the thousandth time today, Rick wonders who this man is. Negan hasn’t lost that dark, threatening appearance he seems to strive so hard to maintain, but here he is, looking at Rick with soft eyes, practically unable to avert his gaze. Why hadn’t he just untied Rick and left? Why is he here, helping the smaller man bathe and touching his skin so tenderly? Rick can’t figure out what Negan’s angle is, and that honestly terrifies him. He’s supposed to hate this guy, and he _does_ , but...what if he _doesn’t_?

Rick closes his eyes and turns his head toward the ceiling. This is stupid. So maybe a tiny fragment of a percent of the things Negan does are actually somewhat like that of a normal human being with an actual conscience. Doesn’t take away from what he’s done. Especially now. Rick knows he can’t forget that. He won’t.

But if he’s going to give himself up to Negan, for any reason, he’s going to suck up parts of the man’s presence like this one without hesitation. It might be some sort of false reassurance that Rick isn’t giving himself to an awful human being, but at least it’s something. It makes the sacrifice he made feel a little less challenging to make good on.

Rick lets Negan do the work. He enjoys the firm massaging of the larger man’s fingers on his scalp and neck and shoulders and back. Negan talks throughout the entire experience, but Rick doesn’t pay much attention to his words. In and out of his own thoughts, he hears the other man mention how he admires Rick’s loyalty, or how maybe one day, they can visit the Sanctuary, but none of it seems very relevant to what’s going on right now, and Rick is frankly too exhausted to give much focus to anything other than the present. His stomach still feels like it could turn any minute, and his eyes still burn with tears threatening to spill.

He damn near falls asleep as Negan’s pouring warm water over his hair and skin, and he acknowledges with the tiniest hint of amusement that Negan’s having to put forth some effort getting him to move around.

But Rick knows--or tells himself adamantly--that if he weren’t this exhausted, or hadn’t handed himself over to Negan like this, he wouldn’t be letting the man touch him, so much as care for him like this. He has to. It’s the only thing that doesn’t make him feel awful for everything that’s happened since he made his offer.

Rick notices that Negan doesn’t take the collar from his neck. When Negan helps Rick into his bed and he reaches up to unbuckle it himself, the larger man shakes his head and drawls out a low, “Not today, Rick...You look too pretty with that thing on. When I leave, you do whatever the fuck you want with it, but you’re keeping it on tonight.”

Rick practically sinks into his mattress. His tired eyes peer up at the dark ones of the man standing beside his bed. The room is nearly pitch black, and Rick is naked and just as vulnerable as he was before. Negan looms over him like a misplaced shadow, and with the only light being the one from the hallway, it’s difficult to tell just what expression the other man’s sporting.

“I’m surprised you haven’t left, already.” Rick has long-since stopped crying, but the defeat still lingers in his voice. He doesn’t bother trying to mask it.

“Well...” Negan shrugs, and Rick’s eyes acclimate just in time to catch a grin on the man’s lips. “You’re gonna find out real goddamn fast that I’m full of surprises.”

When Negan urges Rick onto his back and crawls atop him, anxiety works its way up Rick’s spine all over again. He wonders if Negan’s going to want to do something else, but reminds himself that this man took the time to clean his partner up. Surely, he wouldn’t want to go in for a round two if he’d done that. On top of that, Negan is well aware of the fact that Rick’s exhausted. Even he’s already proven he can respect that.

But it's different than Rick expects. Negan dips down over Rick to kiss him, and it's slow and careful. It's so very unlike the heated, intent-filled kisses he'd been giving Rick earlier. And because it is so tender and filled with purpose, Rick finds himself compelled to kiss back. His mouth, after feeling the harsh thrusts of Negan's hips earlier, almost feels pampered by the gentle contact he’s being met with.

Seconds later, Negan breaks off the kiss and rolls off of Rick and onto the mattress next to him. A part of Rick wonders if this softer Negan is going to apologize, but it never comes. After all, why would someone apologize if they weren't sorry?

Negan does, however, extend his arms out to Rick, as if to implore, ‘come here’. By now, he's settled himself up into a half-sitting position, so he just looks down at Rick and waits, with rare patience, for the smaller man to obey.

And obey, Rick does. With the last few dregs of energy he has left, he pushes himself up and crawls right back into Negan's arms. The larger man accepts him halfway into his lap and curls an arm around his shoulders. Rick hates how comfortable he is.

For a while, the two men rest in silence. Rick stares ahead, peering sleepily into the darkness, while Negan's fingers absentmindedly play with the skin on Rick's shoulder. The soothing gesture just about puts Rick to sleep, but after a minute or so, Negan breaks the silence.

“I'm a hundred percent positive you already fucking know this,” Negan starts, the calming strokes of his fingers on Rick's skin unwavering, “but this isn't the end. Of all this.” Rick feels Negan's hand leave his skin and assumes he's motioning around him. It's understood that he means today's events, and the more sexual side of their deal. Rick has already accepted this fact, so he just nods in understanding.

Negan pauses, and Rick feels those eyes on him again. There’s some hesitation, before Negan’s fingers resume their dance on Rick’s shoulder, and once they do, the larger man continues speaking.

“Unless you want it to stop. Of course, that’s gonna cut the deal off and pickups will go back to how they were before--nothing personal, Rick. But I’m not into _making_ you do any of this shit, so you _do_ have a fucking voice, here.”

Rick swallows a lump in his throat. He can’t bring himself to respond to that statement, because he isn’t sure how to process it. Negan might not intend for it to mean much more than that Rick can cut the terms of their agreement at any time, but after months of viewing Negan as nothing more than a cruel man who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself, the gesture almost seems caring.

Whether Rick wants it to or not, it reassures him.

Still, he doesn’t say anything. He instead just turns, buries his face in Negan’s abdomen, and inhales the leathery scent of his jacket until it lulls him to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

When Rick awakens, he feels like he’s suffocating. He pulls blankets he doesn’t remember covering up in from his body, but the stifling sensation doesn’t seem to want to go away. It’s like something’s covering his neck, threatening to run up over his chin and face and keep him from taking in any air.

Rick draws his fingers to his neck, and when he closes his hand over something thick and black and leathery, he panics.

_“Don’t look at me like that, baby...If you could see yourself, you’d understand.”_

Rick curses aloud, tugs at the buckle to the collar around his throat, and when he finally works it free, he violently casts it aside. As if the grasp really were choking him, he swallows air like he’s been starved for it, and then realizes with horror that he’s shaking.

“Fuck…” Rick gasps. Negan’s face still hasn’t left the back of his mind, and even though Rick doesn’t feel the heavy force of his presence, he’s still not one hundred percent certain he’s alone.

It may be the memory of everything that happened the previous night. Negan’s touches, both gentle and rough, linger on Rick’s skin, and the other man’s proud smirk haunts Rick’s mind relentlessly. His jaw is sore from the thorough fucking his mouth endured less than twelve hours ago, and even though he’s not sick to his stomach anymore, he can almost convince himself that he still feels the weight of Negan’s orgasm heavy on his stomach.

Jesus...what’s Rick getting himself into?

He knows it’s important to his people, though. And while pickups aren’t going to stop, Negan has still worked out a compromise. No matter how unfair it seems to be giving up so much to get so little back, Rick knows it’s the right thing to do.

What if he had confided in Aaron today instead of during their last run together? Would Aaron still feel as loyal to him knowing that he’d clung pathetically to Negan after taking mouthful after mouthful of him without protest? Would it really seem like he would be doing Alexandria any good?

Rick definitely doesn’t want to lose Aaron’s trust.

...Wait. Aaron.

“ _Shit_!” Rick’s at his feet in an instant when he remembers what happened to Aaron yesterday. Negan had ordered his goons to lock the poor guy up. After that, there’s no telling what Aaron went through. Negan had at least suggested David and Gary not do anything too crazy to him, so there’s that.

But that doesn’t slow Rick’s pace any. Soon enough, he’s managed to clamber into a pair of boxer briefs and jeans, and as he sprints down the stairs, he shrugs on a dark blue-gray T-shirt. He kicks his boots on as quickly as he can manage, and then breaks into a run straight for the only place he can think Negan’s men would know to lock Aaron up in.

Maybe the cell is a little obvious, but that seems like something Negan and his Saviors would go for, anyway. They’d want people to know Aaron was locked up in here, as some sort of sick, twisted message, a la _‘don’t fuck with us, this is why_ ’ or something.

But when Rick gets there, Aaron is nowhere to be seen. The cell is completely uninhabited, without so much as a trace of Aaron’s presence. Rick kicks at one of the walls, gritting his teeth. His jaw twinges painfully. He recalls how fiercely he loathes Negan.

Where the fuck is Aaron? Surely, they didn’t take the guy back to the Sanctuary with them? Losing Daryl is enough--Rick can’t lose Aaron, too.

“They moved him before dawn this morning.”

Rick instantly recognizes the soft voice of none other than Father Gabriel. When the distraught leader turns around to regard him, he’s smiling that usual, serene smile of his. His outfit doesn’t bear so much as a speck of dust--something Rick finds a little cruel and unfair compared to how Aaron probably looks right now.

“Where’d they take him?” Rick pleads. He’s sure he looks desperate, because Gabriel’s smile grows softer when their eyes meet.

“Back home,” Gabriel responds. “They dropped him off right before Negan left, very early this morning. He’s okay--I stopped by to make sure.”

Rick realizes in this moment just how grateful he is that Gabriel takes nighttime rounds as often as he does. Otherwise, no one would have seen Aaron being dropped off at his house and made sure he was alright. Eric would likely have confronted Rick himself if his partner were in too awful of shape, but still. Rick can’t thank Gabriel enough.

He expresses his gratitude several times over, before taking off to Aaron’s and Eric’s house. By the time he finds himself at their doorstep, he’s out of breath. He knocks on door, and in a handful of seconds, it swings open.

Eric greets him, and he doesn’t look impressed. Rick wouldn’t necessarily deem him angry, but he doesn’t seem all that pleased, either. For a man of such small stature, Eric’s expression is firm and unwavering. He doesn't say a word--just motions with his head for Rick to follow him inside.

In the living room rests a tired-looking Aaron. He's lying on his back on the couch, his head propped up on the armrest. A hand on his forehead seems to be nursing a headache.

Rick at least notices that he isn't sporting any more injuries than what he got before he and Rick got separated. He takes some relief in this fact, but as he can feel Eric staring him down from not too far away, Rick decides that doesn't make the situation any better.

Aaron opens his eyes and peers at Rick through the hood his fingers have created on his forehead. He offers his leader a genuine smile. “About time you showed up.”

“Sorry…” Rick clears his throat. “You try gettin’ away from Negan.”

“Fair enough,” Aaron replies with a laugh. “How’d that go, anyway? You get to talk to him?” He sits up on the couch just in time for Eric to join him and slump up against him. Rick doesn’t have to look to feel the concern oozing from Eric’s demeanor. The stern expression he keeps shooting Rick’s way makes all kinds of sense, now. Looking back on it, Rick would have been upset if he’d been the one to find his lover at his doorstep with a new bruise or two, after being locked up all night.

Rick’s gaze immediately snaps to Eric, who has returned to his earlier task of staring the Alexandrian leader down. There’s a moment of anxiety wherein Rick wonders just how much is a good idea to say in front of Eric, but he doesn’t have the heart to ask the man to leave the room.

But Aaron doesn’t look like he feels like he’s said too much, himself, and it’s in catching sight of the placid expression on his friend’s face that Rick realizes that Eric already knows.

“...You told him,” Rick acknowledges. He isn’t certain he’s upset with Aaron about it, and he also knows that Eric’s got a fiery side to him that undoubtedly pressed for whatever information he wasn’t being given. Chances are, Aaron didn’t have a choice but to spill.

“What would you have done?” Aaron questions, still calm as ever. “They just deposited me at the doorstep. Eric got to see me get slugged from a distance, but he didn’t understand why. So of course I came clean. Your secret’s safe with him, Rick.”

“But it shouldn’t be,” Eric adds curtly. “No matter what Negan’s end of the deal is, your people deserve to know that you’re selling yourself to him.”

“I’m not selling myself to him,” Rick retorts, though he quickly backpedals a few steps when he realizes that, yeah, the whole thing kind of does sound like he’s selling himself to Negan. Hell, it’s a _lot_ like he’s selling himself to Negan. It probably _is_ , if you get technical.

“Unless you’re just as interested in him,” Eric replies back, “you’re selling yourself to him.” The rigid posture he’s gained over the past handful of seconds gives way to a long, defeated sigh. “You’ve done a lot for us, Rick. We care about you. Aaron thinks the world of you.” The two men exchange understanding glances, before Eric turns his focus back to Rick. “You’re stupid for trying to go through this alone.”

Rick frowns, and when Aaron motions for him to have a seat, he slumps down into one of the nearby armchairs. Eric continues speaking.

“This one” —he elbows his boyfriend in a half-scolding manner— “got himself into trouble because he knew what was going on with you. He was worried about what Negan was going to do to you. That’s why it irritates me that you chose him of all people to talk to about it.”

“Eric,” Aaron interjects. “He’s my friend. And in his defense, I kind of pried it out of him.”

“You didn’t pry it out of me.” Rick shakes his head, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I pried it out of you,” Aaron says firmly. “I was worried—got carried away with it.”

“I told you because I trust you,” Rick shrugs. “Not because I thought you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“The point is,” Eric interrupts, “I know. And so should everyone else.”

Honestly, Rick agrees with him. He has from the very beginning, but he’s selfishly been wondering if telling everyone would result in bitterness or lack of trust from the others. No doubt it would. Of course it would. But how everyone feels about Rick Grimes isn’t necessarily the issue. It’s being upfront and honest and hopefully letting that stand as enough proof that Rick cares about his people.

That’s right. If he comes clean now, he’s going to piss people off. Rick can name a few people in particular who aren’t going to take the news well. But if he’s not honest with them, he’s going to make things worse if and when they do find out about the deal later on.

Which they will, eventually. It’s going to appear strange to them that Negan isn’t showing up as often, taking as much. That he’s even more attentive to Rick than he already was before. Eventually, the pieces are going to come together and they’re going to find out that something isn’t right. And when Rick’s exposed, the consequences are going to be so much worse than they are right now.

And for that, Rick concedes. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head.

“I know, you’re right.”

Aaron looks shocked. “...You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah...I do.” Rick leans back and closes his eyes. “I’ve been tryin’ to convince myself to for a long time, now. You all deserve to know.”

The relief on Eric’s face shows immediately, even if Aaron looks a little downtrodden next to him.

“Don’t let us pressure you, Rick,” Aaron tries.

“Consider it advice,” Eric adds. “You may be the guy in charge, but it doesn’t hurt to ask for help from time to time.” There’s still a curt expression on his face, and in seconds, Rick finds out why. “Anything to keep you from getting Aaron locked away again.”

“Eric!” The look of horror on Aaron’s face would have made Rick laugh if the subject matter were any different.

“No, I’m serious.” Eric shrugs. “You both may have meant well, but you’ve also got to watch your ‘p’s and ‘q’s. Being honest with everyone about this might have saved you somehow. Maybe someone would have known to keep you at a distance.”

Rick sighs. “I’m sorry, Eric.”

Eric shrugs. “It’s over, and Aaron’s okay. That’s all that matters. But you’ve got to call a meeting and let everyone know what’s going on.”

Rick knows he’s right. It’s not necessarily just because someone else could get hurt by asking too many questions or trying to figure out what’s changed up Negan’s schedule, either. It’s that they, as people under Rick’s control, have a right to know. Plain and simple.

The only person Rick is reluctant to tell at this point is Carl. And Carl ran off with Enid two days ago to Hilltop, so Rick figures he has plenty of time to come up with a better way to address his son with the situation.

“...I will.” Rick nods in agreement. Eric may seem a little pushy about things, but Rick gets it. And even though Aaron’s been kind of trying to plead Rick’s case for him this whole time, the blond himself seems to understand as well. “Call a meeting for me--I’m gonna go figure out where to start.”

\--- --- --- --- ---

And that’s how Rick finds himself in the living room of Aaron and Eric’s house later on that evening. With a stomach full of anxiety and a chest clenched tight in anticipation, he stands before an entire community of people, all stuffed in the room like sardines, waiting to be told why they’re here. Everyone knows something’s up, and their vast array of expressions tells Rick they’ve been waiting for him to talk to them about something for a while, now.

It really wouldn’t be any surprise to Rick if he wasn’t the only one who noticed that Negan had taken more than a week to show up. Rick knows they count Negan’s arrivals down to the minute, so when he shows up nearly two weeks later this time, of course it’s going to look strange. And of course they’re going to trust that Negan’s explained why to Rick.

Once he’s certain everyone’s present, Rick clears his throat and moves to stand in front of his end of the dining room table. Behind him and to the left stands Aaron, and Rick can feel the other man’s reassuring stare on him. He knows Rick’s going to have a hard time coming out with it.

Thank goodness Rick has him when all this is said and done. Rick isn’t sure who is going to walk out of this building his friend once he’s done speaking this evening. But at least he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aaron's opinion on him isn't going to change.

“Alright,” Rick starts. He can feel the color draining out of his face. He almost feels as if these people are going to take the news about as well as when he’d had to tell his group all those years ago that he’d learned that everyone was infected. The audience is far different this time, but that doesn’t do anything to quell the anticipation creeping over Rick right now.

Either way, he’s a man of practice. He knows it’s better to just get it over with. For that reason, he continues speaking. “I’m sure you all noticed how Negan took longer to show up this last time, and how he didn’t collect while he was here. Well, there’s a reason for that. I made a deal with him.”

The reactions across the overcrowded living room are mixed. Some look hopeful, and others afraid. Michonne’s expression is the most noticeable--with her dark eyes focused right on Rick’s, a firm but understanding frown stretched out across her lips. He knows she’s going to give him the benefit of the doubt with whatever he says, and a part of him kind of wishes she wouldn’t. But he and Michonne have easily been through the most trying of situations together. If anyone knows him and has a right to trust him, it would be Michonne.

Or his own son. But Rick knows Carl’s reaction to this news isn’t going to be pleasant, no matter when Rick decides to give him said news.

Nobody speaks. They all just watch Rick cautiously, some impatient and some expressionless.

So Rick keeps going. “Pickups are only gonna happen once every three weeks, now. And when they do happen, he’s only going to take a third of our supply now instead of half.”

He isn’t expecting some wild round of applause, but he isn’t ready for complete silence, either. The same cautious expressions remain plastered on the various people’s faces, and Rick knows why. They want to know what they have to give up for it.

“In exchange,” Rick finally concedes, his shoulders slumping, “he gets me.”

Tension fills the air almost immediately.

“What does that mean?” Tara questions, looking horrified. “You’re going with him back to the Sanctuary?”

Rick shakes his head. “No. He’s too smart to think me leavin’ here would do him any good. He thinks I keep you people in line.”

“You keep us rational,” Gabriel comments placidly from a spot standing behind the couch. “Without you, some of the decisions made would have been more than a little reckless.”

“That’s true.” Olivia looks nervous, sitting on an armchair with Judith in her lap. “But if you’re not going with him, what’re you doing?”

“I belong to him now,” Rick answers. “That’s all. He comes and sees me, takes what he wants, and for it, he cuts back on collections.”

“That’s hardly a solution, Rick,” Sasha argues from her spot at the back of the room. “That’s a lot to be giving up for some bullshit dock in pickups.”

“I did what I could,” Rick admits. He’s not satisfied with the results any more than Sasha is. Looking back on the previous night, he’s actually a bit disgusted that he had clung to Negan as desperately as he had. What the fuck had he been thinking? “At first, I told him he had to cut off pickups. When he showed up yesterday, he changed his mind. Said he didn’t want a revolt on his hands.”

Rick casts a glance back toward Aaron and Eric. They both look less than pleased with the updated news. Last thing Rick had told Aaron had been that Negan had cut off pickups entirely. Rick had been pissed when he’d learned that Negan had changed his mind. No doubt Aaron feels the same way. He and the guy have been on the same page about this situation pretty much the entire time.

Either way, Rick turns his focus back to everyone else. “He’s afraid you might take advantage of his so-called kindness. That’s also why he’s got people stationed here, watching us.” Rick is frankly surprised one of them isn’t in here paying more attention to the meeting. He wouldn’t put it past them to be listening from outside the house, though.

Someone scoffs off to the side of the room. Rick glances over to see Spencer leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed smugly over his chest.

“If you’ve got somethin’ to say,” Rick replies to the harsh laugh, “then say it. That’s why I called this meeting.”

Spencer just shakes his head. “I just don’t think this is the type of decision a good leader makes, is all. You tell him you’ll be his boyfriend, and he takes away a tiny portion of collections, and you’re okay with it?”

“I’m _not_ okay with it,” Rick growls. “But I’m takin’ what I can get.”

“With a little bonus on the side for you,” Rosita sneers.

“That’s not what this is,” Rick argues, but the way Rosita rolls her eyes tells him she doesn’t buy it.

“You’re full of shit,” Rosita continues. “You let him hang all over you all the time anyway, so what’s there to lose?”

“That’s not fair,” Michonne interjects. “What other option do we have right now? Look, I don’t agree that Rick should be offering himself up to Negan--” she shoots Rick a pointed glare, “--but we’re already giving him food and clothing and guns. There’s not much else we can strike a deal with.”

“So why not just _kill_ the fucker?” Rosita cocks her head. “Get it over with. His goons can’t all be okay with what he’s doing.”

“It’s not that easy, and you know it,” Aaron snaps from behind Rick. “We can’t guarantee that any of his underdogs are on our side. Look at the way the Saviors all sneer at us.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Sasha joins in. “You just gave him more of what he wants. What we need is to _finish_ this. He killed--”

“--Abraham and Glenn,” Tara sighs. “We _know._ That’s something we’re never going to forget. Bringing it up all the damn time isn’t helping any, either.” She shoots a sympathetic look Rick’s way--a telltale sign that she understands why Rick did what he did, but wishes it didn’t have to be that way--before she looks back and forth between Sasha and Rosita. “Rick’s not the bad guy, here.”

“He’s not the good one, either,” Spencer quips.

“Shut up.” Michonne glares at him.

Rick can feel things getting more and more tense as time passes. He knows he needed to come out with the truth about this, but damn if he doesn’t feel a little regretful that he even said anything right now. And here he is, just watching things get more and more chaotic. He’s got to say something--do _something_.

“Wait, now this could work,” Aaron tries again, and Rick shoots him an appreciative smile. “You guys have to think about it from a step-by-step point of view. As much as some of you seem to think Rick wants to be Negan’s little playtoy, you’re wrong.” He smiles reassuringly at Rick. “Right now, if he can stick it out, we should let him. Until we figure out how we’re going to put a stop to all collections--until we can figure out how to bring Negan down--this is what we have. Rick made a big sacrifice for all of Alexandria. If you ask me, he’s pretty brave.”

Not everyone is convinced. Rosita and Sasha both still look furious, and Spencer doesn’t seem to feel any differently than he did moments ago. Eugene keeps looking down at his hands, and then back up at Rick, that terrified frown plastered all over his face. Olivia readjusts Judith on her lap again with a disappointed look on her features, but nods toward Rick in understanding. Tara, Aaron, and Michonne exchange glances, before focusing on their leader once more. Everyone else is silent, because this is as good at it’s going to get.

Thank god Carl’s not here right now. This has the potential to get so much worse.

“So that’s it, then?” Sasha questions. “You keep playing boyfriend to Negan indefinitely, until we figure out something else to do with him?”

“...I guess so,” Rick concedes. He wavers back and forth on his feelings toward Negan, but right now, he loathes the man. He remembers all too vividly just how amused Negan had been when he’d taken Abraham’s and Glenn’s lives. How teasing and loud and obnoxious he’d been during the first raid on Alexandria. How mocking he is in general. Right now, Rick will take any excuse to wipe him off the face of the planet. “Not sure what we’re gonna do, but we’ll get there. I’ve got faith in us.”

When he sees Michonne smile resolutely, Rick realizes that this meeting is over. That he’s finally managed to bring things out into the air. He doesn’t feel very good about it, but he knows it could’ve gone much, much worse. For the most part, everyone is in agreement about what they need to do, and that’s the best thing Rick can hope for right now.

He walks out of Aaron and Eric’s home feeling more apprehensive than anything. There’s a sense of closure, but he doesn’t suppose everyone’s going to accept what he’s said overnight. It’s going to take time. Hell, Rick is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s given himself to Negan.

At the very least, he’s thankful for Michonne, and Tara, and Aaron. They were all quick to jump to his defense, even though they didn’t all seem to be in agreement one hundred percent with what was going on. They kept the crowd from getting too crazy, though. Rick owes them big time for it.

Everyone has by now dispersed back to their own places within the community. Some walk the streets, but most have retired to their homes. Rick decides he should probably do the same. He’s exhausted, and the meeting he’d called has effectively drained the shit out of him. On top of that, he’s got just a little over a week to have things ready for Negan when he shows up for his actual pickup. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.

His house is eerily silent. With Carl out at Hilltop and Judith staying with Michonne, it’s almost unbearable to be here. Rick attempts to sit down on his couch and sort through his thoughts, but when his ass hits the cushions and he’s almost instantly overcome with a jittery feeling, he decides it’s not time for rest.

In the end, Rick finds himself at Michonne’s, playing with Judith. Michonne keeps her distance, but Rick doesn’t blame her. She’s got a lot to think about, and he understands that. She’s still respectful to him as she offers him water and a blanket for Judith, but it isn’t until the little toddler is fast asleep in her father’s arms and they’re all sat down on the couch that Michonne finally speaks up.

“I just hate that you’re giving up so much for him,” she says out of the blue. When Rick turns his head to regard her, she’s got her sharp gaze focused straight ahead. “He doesn’t deserve you. And he’s going to use you until you’ve run yourself dry.”

“Yeah…” Rick sighs. “Probably. But this isn’t about me, Michonne.” He appreciates conversations like this one. It’s so easy to have a good heart-to-heart with Michonne. They’ve been close friends ever since things with the prison went to hell. Rick doesn’t know what he’d do without her. She’s a voice of reason, and a very logical thinker. Her attention to realism is important to Rick. Without her help, some decisions he’s needed to make might not have come out as well as they did.

Either way, he nods down to the little girl cradled in his arms. “It’s about her. About you guys. If I’m in control here, I’ve got to do somethin’. I don’t know how much longer any of us can survive on half of our findings.”

“I know,” Michonne nods. “You’re doing your best, and I respect that. I just...wish it didn’t have to cost you so much.”

“It’ll be alright.” Rick smiles serenely. For a split second, he remembers how gentle Negan had been the previous night, and how he’d allowed Rick to fall asleep on him. How he’d caressed Rick’s face, or smoothed out his hair. If Negan keeps it up like that, Rick imagines he can live with the agreement until they figure something else out. “Let’s just focus on gettin’ a different plan worked out for the time being, okay?”

“Yeah,” Michonne sighs, “okay.” She falls silent for a moment, before turning her attention back to Rick. “...How long? How long ago did you make the deal with him?”

“A little under two weeks ago,” Rick answers honestly. “Why?”

Michonne bites her lip hard. “...It just looked like it’s been longer than that.”

Those words haunt Rick all the way into the night. In the shower, he thinks about all the times Negan’s showed up in Alexandria and made quick on approaching him. How there was always a default arm around his shoulders or waist, or how that dark hazel stare was always pointedly focused on him. To an extent, Rick has always known how interested Negan was in him, but putting it into the perspective Michonne gave him, he sees why everyone else is so disgusted with him right now.

It’s looked like Rick has been sleeping with the enemy for far longer than two weeks.

He falls into a restless sleep that night, tossing and turning. A handful of hours pass, and Rick wakes up to the voice of Imaginary Negan teasing him. The hallucination compliments Rick’s eyes, and reminds him how pretty he looked when he was having his mouth thoroughly fucked. Rick swats away the memory and forces himself back to sleep.

The night doesn’t get any easier, and the day is just as tough. Rick’s exhausted in the morning, but he can’t take being alone in his house any longer. He’s quick to seek out Aaron and Olivia, and as he instructs Judith not to get into anything, they hop to the task of sorting out their most recent findings together. Rick occupies his daughter with a bowlful of dry cereal. He learns that day that Judith can now say ‘square’, because the cereal she keeps popping into her mouth is square-shaped. His heart melts as much as it aches.

Later, Rick and Gabriel work on setting up regular meetings again. With Negan’s men still patrolling the grounds of Alexandria, it’s a good idea to get everyone together at the church on a regular basis and make sure they’re all still on the same page. Communication, they both agree, is going to be what pulls this situation out of the red and brings back some level of trust between leader and followers. They settle on weekly visits, right after lunch, and then Rick goes to make rounds.

He passes by Gary, trying his best to ignore the cocky smirk on the Savior’s face. Rick hates him. He hates him for what he did to Aaron, and he hates him for the way he talks to the people of Alexandria. His sense of entitlement is disgusting. Rick honestly doesn’t think even Negan could be as bad as half his men.

Especially not after the last time Negan showed up. Two nights ago still feels like two minutes ago, and Rick can still remember everything vividly. The gentle fingers on his skin, and the bath Negan had given him. The reassurance that Rick wouldn’t be forced into anything. Negan is a selfish asshole, and Rick hates him for what he has been doing to the people of Alexandria, but...he also feels comforted by the other man.

That frightens Rick as much as it reassures him. Rick knows that he is never going to let his impression of Negan obscure the knowledge of what the Sanctuary leader has done, but at the same time, it’s nice to know that this whole harrowing experience has some level of comfort. Rick hates Negan, but in a very blurry, unconventional, just plain _wrong_ manner, he also likes him.

He likes Negan’s gentle side, and he likes being given a chance to recover from Negan doing whatever he wants to him. He likes the praise Negan gives him, and he likes feeling, on some level, important to this guy. He occasionally feels like he’s in control, and at this point, Rick will take what he can get.

It’s on the fourth day through the third week that Rick realizes he actually _misses_ Negan’s presence. He likes to tell himself that it isn’t because of the man himself, but after so long of wondering and being confused and uncomfortable, Rick isn’t so sure. How nice it had felt to fall asleep in someone else’s arms, and to have his skin and hair stroked during a hot bath. To be called beautiful, and kissed so, so gently…

Maybe Rick’s sick for that, but calling himself ill doesn’t take away from the reality of the situation. He can hate Negan all he wants, and he can still hope and pray that they figure out some way to take the man down, but that isn’t going to do away with the fact that on some level, there have been parts of this agreement that Rick has enjoyed.

He entertains the thought that maybe Negan wants it to be that way. Maybe he’s been so gentle and sweet all this time because he wants Rick to be too attached to him to be able to try and kill him. Because any thought is better than calling the guy who murdered two of your _family_ a decent person, right?

Rick isn’t going to make any excuses for Negan. He can fall flat-out in love with the other man (which he’s not, and of that, he’s certain) and he’d still be able and willing to acknowledge how awful of a person Negan is. He’s at least got that much strength to him.

But he misses Negan. That, he can’t deny. And if only for the fact that Negan’s probably going to be up close and personal with him again in a few days, he actually somewhat looks forward to the man’s presence.

On the fifth day, Carl returns. Enid isn’t with him, which Rick finds strange, but he doesn’t have time to think about it, because his son quickly approaches him with a frightening look of urgency. He’s out of breath, as if he’s been running the entire way here. Rick doubts it, but that doesn’t make the fear on his son’s face look any less real.

Rick tries to give Carl a hug, but the teenager stops him and quickly pulls him aside. In a low voice, he speaks up, his eye focused right onto Rick’s, boring into his father’s skull so fiercely that Rick almost has to look away.

“Daryl’s at Hilltop,” He whispers, panicked, and Rick’s blood runs cold. “I don’t know if Negan knows yet.”

Carl doesn’t have to finish his sentence. Rick knows exactly what his boy is getting at. If Negan finds out Daryl’s somehow gotten out of the Sanctuary, things are about to get infinitely more messy than they already are. Not only is Hilltop risking getting their asses handed to them for keeping Daryl, but Alexandria is going to be under fire, too.

Rick’s deal with Negan might very well become moot. And this is no doubt going to cost some lives.

“ _Shit,_ ” Rick finally responds. “Call a meeting at the church. I’ll regroup with you in ten minutes.”

Their decision to figure out how to take Negan down just got that much more rushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for the first batch of chapters! I don't want to promise any set amount of time before the next handful is posted, but I will say that I have four requests, two chaptered fics to finish, and two chaptered fics to update, before I can get started on it. I'm sorry to keep everyone waiting! Hope you've enjoyed what's come out so far!
> 
> Again, a big thanks to the lovely one who requested this. <3


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